Puzzled
by DaisyDay
Summary: Very early season 1... Lisbon was unsure if Jane as a consultant was the real deal. Yet on their next second case together, he solved it in less than 15 minutes! But it was their THIRD case that completely baffled them both; first with its intriguing coded message and then also, with their mutual attraction for one another! (My first Mentalist FF!)
1. Chapter 1

(Disclaimer: Most characters are part of The Mentalist universe)

THE MENTALIST

Puzzled

Chapter 1

_**September, 2004**_

(Their Second Case Together)

For Patrick Jane, giving a lecture on _Using Observational Skills_ at an Ivy League University is one of the perks of being extremely... well, _observant_.

He almost had a boy-like wonder as he strolled through Sacramento University's lush greenery, winding bike paths and ivy-strewn Gothic buildings. Although he was not one to be cordial with people, he was looking forward to discussing his craft to eager young minds in hopes of creating the next generation of brilliant minds.

As he neared the lecture hall, however, he soon realized this would not be a regular lecture day. The usual quiet, laid-back campus appeared different, and not in a good way.

Red lights and voices squawking from speakers could be heard as an array of different law enforcers were parked all around and police officers mulled about. Yellow crime scene tape closed off a large area of green grass in the quad. Several students watched the police presence, but the numbers were sparse due to the early morning time.

Obviously, something terrible had occurred on campus.

_Crime scene,_ Jane concluded, as a smile formed on his lips and his steps quickened.

Jane had been in hot pursuit of Red John, but ever since he had been foisted on Agent Teresa Lisbon by Director Minelli, Jane had also become intrigue with solving cases. He enjoyed using his unconventional methods with victims and suspects alike, much to the detriment of Lisbon.

So his curiosity was peaked when he saw the familiar crime scene tape surrounding a small grassy area on campus.

"Sorry, Sir," one of the police officers warned, blocking Jane as he walked up, "but we have an ongoing investigation here and you are not authorized beyond this point."

Jane looked neither surprised nor perturbed as he nonchalantly displayed his University badge for the officer to see.

"I completely understand," Jane responded agreeably, "so being that you don't need me to identify the body after all, kindly inform the lead investigator that I had dropped by. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll just be on my way..."

He turned with a slight smile, expecting to be cajoled back.

"Professor, hold on! " the officer contritely said, calling him back," please...I hadn't realize you had been expected!"

The young officer helpfully lifted the yellow crime tape so that Jane could hitch underneath, "you'll find the agent in charge over there," he gestured to the back of a female, who was dressed in a feminine gray pants suit.

_Welllll, __would you look at who that is,_" Jane thought with glee at the sight of the familiar form.

Teresa Lisbon was discussing the crime scene with Agent Cho, a dead body positioned down near their feet. Rigsby and Van Pelt were at the edge of the crime scene, questioning potential witnesses as police officers were scattered about to keep looky-loos from getting closer.

Quietly approaching Lisbon and Cho, Jane kept himself within listening distance as Cho, in his usual deadpanned manner, was updating Lisbon regarding the investigation.

"The victim is Professor Martin, age 58," Cho informed Lisbon who seemingly had also just arrived, "evidently the professor was taking a shortcut across campus to get to his office when he was struck lightly from behind. "

Lisbon looked puzzled at one part of Cho's explanation, "Did you say struck _lightly?_"

Cho nodded, "There appears to be a very thin, faint bruise at the back of his neck," he explained, "From the position of the body, my guess is that Martin was hit from behind, and fell forward, causing him to slam his head on the dried grass area here, killing him instantly. "

"Hmmm..." Lisbon said, looking about the grass, " And no murder weapon was found nearby?"

"None," Cho confirmed, "The murder didn't seem to be pre-meditated and it wasn't a robbery, either, because his ID and money were still in his wallet."

"Okay," Lisbon acknowledged, "so what we need to do next is to determine-..."

"...the type of weapon he was hit with," Jane finished the sentence as he walked up casually to Lisbon and Cho.

At the sound of his voice, Lisbon felt a trill going down her spine as she instantly turned around.

Even though Minelli had insisted that Jane be allowed to follow her on any investigation, she had purposely not called him for this case. After all, her supervisor didn't say Jane had be an consultant on ALL her investigations. She was certainly capable of solving cases on her own; she figured she would call him on the _next_ case. Or not. Perhaps the one after that.

So despite her initial reaction, her mind told her that annoyingly he was here.

"Jane," she stated evenly, "I'm surprise to see you here."

"Agent Lisbon_,"_ he responded, with a bit of snark, "If _**I **_recall correctly, your _supervisor_ had clearly instructed you to allow me to accompany you on your cases...therefore, you weren't _suppose_ to be surprise to see me here."

She folded her arms, "I told Director Minelli that I would allow you to consult on my cases, but I didn't say it would be EVERY case. "

"So your excuse for not letting me solve this case is...semantics?" he asked.

_As pompous as ever_, Lisbon thought, with a slightly irked expression.

"How did you even _know_ about this case? Who told you?" she asked, thinking that later, she would have that person's head.

"No one," he explained, "I hadn't expected to come across a murder today, although _tomorrow_ is opened on my schedule, " he smirked, "Actually, I'm here by invitation of the University to deliver a mind-opening lecture to promising young students ."

"Oh, lucky them," Lisbon wryly responded, "so, what will be the topic of your lecture: _How to accomplish goals while lounging on a couch?"_

He gave her that slow smile that showed her comment didn't bother him, but in fact, it entertained him.

"Don't forget to mention the enjoyment of the tea while on aforementioned sofa," he told her, "You know, Lisbon, I must admit that I enjoy it when you show a little humor...with emphasis on _little_."

"Glad to hear that," she told him, "and now, you should be on your way. After all, **_I_ **wouldn't want to be the one to keep you from opening promising young minds."

"I'm just on campus today for preliminary work, "he explained, "it's _tomorrow_ that I'll be opening their minds."

Cho had been watching Jane and Lisbon clashing back and forth, as usual.

"Anyone care to open their minds to _this_ murder?" he straight-faced.

Lisbon had forgotten Cho was even here. She cleared her throat.

"Yes, of course, Agent Cho," she assured him with professionalism, "Sorry. I was just trying to figure out why Jane is here. Not here at the university, but _here;_ with us at the crime scene."

"I've come to identify the body," Jane plainly said.

"Identify him? You don't even know him," Lisbon told him.

Jane stared down at the victim, a middle aged man sprawled on the grass outside of his own office, his body lying face down. The air around them smelled of death.

Jane faced Lisbon.

"That's Professor Martin," he announced confidently.

Once again he said something he had no knowledge of.

"Hey, _wait, a minute..._" Lisbon put her hands on her hips, "You _couldn't_ have recognized this man, especially since he is faced down on the ground."

"Then how did I know his name?" he challenged, a playful expression on his face.

Realization hit her.

"You heard Cho say his name earlier!" she pointedly said.

"Did not!" Jane sounded like a petulant child, "I know his name fair and square!"

"Alright, then, what is his FIRST name?" she quizzed him.

Looking down again at the cold body on the ground, Jane remembered bumping into the professor once at a previous seminar here on campus. Luckily, Jane was very good with remembering small details.

He looked causally back at Lisbon's upturned face.

"Benjamin. Benjamin Martin."

Her expression fell, "Oh."

_How does he always get away with these things,_ she wondered.

She shrugged as if it didn't matter. Enough of this. She had a murder investigation to figure out and he was, once again, a roadblock to that. Lisbon gestured towards an area a distance away from the body.

"Just...stand over there, Jane, "she commanded, more than suggested, "off to one side, so that I can finish up processing the crime scene."

Surprisingly he cooperated, "Alright, I'll be over there if you need me."

He walked 30 feet away. but was it still within the boundaries of the crime scene. He could feel Lisbon's eyes on his back the entire way. When he stopped at last, he turned and looked directly at her. She blinked uncomfortably, embarrassed that he found her staring at her.

She really couldn't understand why she always had a visceral reaction to Jane. The man was brilliant, sure, but he was smug and stubborn as well.

He waved to her, "See? I'm over here," he announced loudly, as he stood firmly at his spot.

"So _stay _over there," she said loudly back.

"I could stay over _there,_" he volunteered, pointing back towards her and the body.

"No, not here, _there!"_ Lisbon commanded, pointing to his spot.

"Right," Jane said, "_there_, not _here_."

"That's NOT what I said!" Lisbon insisted, exasperated, "or meant!"

Cho, who had been standing next to Lisbon, spoke out.

"Hey Boss, you want to take a look at the victim's neck wound or do you plan to continue playing the verbal version of _Twister _instead?_"_ he asked.

_Jane is so infuriating!_

"Uh, sure, I'll take a closer look..." recovered Lisbon. She gave Jane a final look of disdain before she squatted down to look at the wound.

Meanwhile Jane was already bored. He looked about in his new locale.

And he soon became fascinated with the area of grass nearby.

He noted that five feet away from him, the grass seemed to be indented at one particular spot. He went over and studied the spot. It seemed to be irregularly flat. And there seemed to be another flat spot a little ways up. He walked roughly 35 feet in an imaginary straight line and noticed a similar indentation. So now there were two flattened spots, each roughly two feet in diameter all around.

_Interesting,_ thought Jane, as he continually walked back and forth between the two indented spots.

_"Jane, what the hell are you doing?"_

He looked up to see that Lisbon had noiselessly approached him. She had a scowl on her face.

"I'm quietly staying over _here_, not over _there,_" he replied, "so what are YOU doing _here_?"

"From where I stood, I saw you walking back and forth like a guard securing Buckingham Palace," Lisbon complained, "and I find that very distracting."

"Oh? I'm distracting to you, am I?" he teasingly asked her as he lifted his eyebrows suggestively.

Although she felt the beginnings of some flutterings, she forced herself to ignore his last statement, "Do you think you can just _stand_ here in one spot without moving?"

"I can, _Teresa_..." Jane purposely used her first name to get her attention.

The way he said her name made her cheeks feel warm. She needed to stop all these palpable reactions to him. Plus he was impeding her investigation.

"Then _do it; _don't move so I can get back to MY job," she said, sounding harsher than she wanted to.

"But, Lisbon," he said, calling her back. He pointed to the newly made marks in the grass " ... I found something interesting you should see."

He indicated the two indented round marks, roughly made 35 feet apart.

She looked, "I see them. _And_?"

"Don't you find these marks unusual?" he asked her.

"Not really," Lisbon shrugged, "These marks were probably made earlier by the police and CBI agents."

Jane shook his head, "No, I don't think so. Everyone working the crime scene had entered from the _east_ side, where all the vehicles are parked. But the footsteps leading to these marks were made from the _west_ side," he declared, "so why were random people standing in the middle of the grass here?"

"There could be many reasons how these marks came about," Lisbon stated, uninterested.

"Really? _Many _reasons? " he challenged, "Name one."

_There he goes, being all-knowing again. She needed to come up with an answer fast._

"Oh, I don't know...like...like maybe a person was standing in this flattened spot ...waiting for someone _else_ to come," she suggested haphazardly.

Jane seemed to measure her response carefully.

"_Waiting for someone_..." he mumbled to himself, "Lisbon,...that's not bad, not bad at all..." he reasoned, "although the spot is too widespread for a person to be just merely _standing_..."

He then walked, to the other flattened spot, "Yes...it's more than standing and waiting ..it's like the person here skidded or shuffled on the grass a bit."

"Why would a person want to skid in the middle of a grassy field?" Lisbon questioned.

"Not sure," Jane admitted, "but I bet it was made by _two_ different people because one of the indentations seemed bigger and flatter than the other, as if one carried more weight than the other... Wait...maybe they _weren't_ waiting for someone_._.."

As usual, Lisbon had a puzzled look. Jane thought she looked adorable with that expression.

"Not waiting for someone?" Lisbon questioned, "then _what_? You think they were waiting for some-_thing._..like a bus?"

"There are no bus lines coming through the middle of the grass here, Lisbon." he said, stating the obvious.

She looked exasperated, "I didn't _literally_ mean a bus, Jane! Besides, why would they be standing so far apart waiting for something?"

"Another excellent question," Jane gave her the credit, "and you're right. The spots _are_ far apart. The two people must have been waiting for something very important."

Lisbon looked at one of the flattened spots, "I see what appears to be a vague footprint here. If it is, then they _could_ have been facing _one another_ as they waited for this special something."

"_Really_, now..." Jane did a double take at the mark and a pleased look suddenly appeared on his face.

He had figured it out.

"Lisbon, you are a genius!"

"I am?" Lisbon scrunched up her face, "about what?"

"They weren't waiting for _someone,_ nor were they waiting for _something,_" he said with a smile, "they were waiting for...each other!"

She looked at him like he was crazy.

"Why would they ever do that?"

"_Because they were taking turns!_" he said, "Thank you, Lisbon, you've made it so clear."

Lisbon looked thoroughly exasperated, but she wouldn't give him the pleasure of getting her curiosity up.

"I'm glad I've solved your little flattened-spot mystery for you," she indifferently stated, "but I have other things to do; **_I_ **have a murder to solve!"

She started to turn away, but what he uttered _next_ gave her pause.

"Believe me, Lisbon, the flattened spots and the murdered professor are inter-related."

She turned back to him.

"Do tell, Jane," Lisbon's tone was amazed yet sarcastic, "because it would certainly save me a_ whole_ lot of paperwork if you could tell me who murdered Professor Martin."

The statement was meant to be rhetorical.

But of course to Jane, it wasn't.

"Not only can I tell you _who_ murdered Professor Martin," he responded calmly, "but I think I can also tell you _what_ murder weapon was used as well."

Lisbon couldn't help it.

She dropped her mouth in astonishment.

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_(A/N: Btw, Sacramento University is a total creation from my mind)_

_Hello! Thanks for reading! My first TM posting and I am nervous and excited at the same time!_

_And yes, I will reveal the answer to the murder in next chapter. But if you know the answer, please PM me instead of revealing it here so as to not spoil it for the other readers!_

_They say you only get one chance at a first impression, so I hope mine was a good one!_

_Please review_


	2. Chapter 2

Case solved; Now what?

Chapter 2

Lisbon looked at Jane, an astounded expression on her face. Was it possible that Jane had solved a murder in under _15 minutes?_

"Jane," Lisbon stated it slowly to make sure she heard it correctly, "did you just say that you knew who killed Professor Martin and you even know what weapon was used?"

"No, I didn't say that," Jane stated.

Lisbon figured as much. She had misinterpret his statement after all.

"Oh, I didn't think so, "Lisbon agreed knowingly.

"I said I _think_ I know who had killed Professor Martin and what the weapon was," Jane replied calmly, "and what I think is usually correct."

Lisbon stared at him, "So..you _did _figure out who killed the Professor? How could you possibly know-"

Wayne Rigsby chose this moment to come upon Lisbon's side, "Hey Boss," he stated, "one of the local reporters would like you to come over to comment on-"

"Can we do this at a later time, Rigsby?" Lisbon asked impatiently as she waved her hand to excuse him, "Sorry, but I'm working on something very important."

"Oh." Rigsby shifted uncomfortably as he looked at Jane with a questioning glance, "I was told by Cho that you might, uh, need an excuse to, you know, get away from..." he secretly sideways glanced Jane.

"_Subtlety _isn't your middle name, is it, Rigby?" Jane asked.

Rigsby looked confused.

"I'm _fine_, Rigsby," Lisbon assured him, anxious to see how Jane figured out the case, "please continue interrogating possible witnesses."

"Yeah, sure...sure," Rigsby appeared uncertain, as he hesitantly walked away.

In no time Rigsby was gone as Lisbon turned eagerly back to Jane.

"Before you go on," Lisbon said, "there's one thing I don't get. If the flat spots and the murder are related, surely the Professor would have _seen_ those two people standing there and been more cautious, wouldn't he? Yet there's no signs of running footsteps or of a struggle."

"That's because the Professor didn't notice the two people standing there," he simply said.

_What?_

"You think the professor failed to see two people lurking about near his office so early in the morning?" Lisbon looked unsure.

"I didn't say he didn't _see_ them," corrected Jane, "I said he didn't _notice_ them."

"Is there a difference?" Lisbon asked, not understanding Jane at all.

"Yes, definitely," Jane explained, "you see, Lisbon, people don't notice the usual. And what those two suspects were doing that morning was precisely what they have been doing probably _most_ mornings, so it raised no red flags."

Lisbon shook her head, thinking she must be dense, "_I still don't get it_...so what you're saying is the two people who had been standing there that morning were regulars?...Are you saying the Professor was done in by..._gardeners?_"

Jane shook his head.

"What time-honored sport is done on every college campus lawn, _everyday,_ for decades on end?"

Lisbon shook her head, looking lost as she tried to come up with something, "I don't know..." she thought and thought. And then stopped, "...wait a minute...you mean, tossing a Frisbee?"

"PRECISELY!" Jane smiled, looking proud and pleased.

Huh. A Frisbee. That theory sounded so farfetched to her.

Lisbon looked unconvinced, "Jane, are you saying the murderers were two students casually tossed a Frisbee around? "

He nodded.

"Just keep an open mind, Lisbon" he told her, "Two students are casually tossing a Frisbee to one another, like they do every morning. That's why the grass is mostly worn down in these two places. One will toss the Frisbee at a distance of 35-40 feet while the other one waits on the other end to catch it. The object, of course, is to catch it while staying in the same one spot as much as possible, even if you have to skid or slide to keep one foot on that one place."

With her eyes, Lisbon measured the distance, "Possible that some Frisbee throwing occurred, ..." she seemed in deep thought and then: "Wait..." and an idea seemed to form slowly in her mind, "I get what you're saying...I've seen college students tossing a Frisbee many times, and...and there's bound to always be _one_ toss that will go awry from an untested flick of the wrist,..."

"...yes," Jane nodded, pleased that she followed his scenario, "and so let's say this one unfortunate erratic toss becomes a deadly weapon..."

"...because, after all, a Frisbee is a hard plastic and it _could_ fly through the air at a velocity of over 20 miles per hour," Lisbon looked excited now.

"...that's right," Jane continued, "so on _this_ particular morning, it comes sailing through the air, hitting Martin from behind the neck. This causes the Professor to smack his head against that hard, dry grass the wrong way, causing the fatality. One of the Frisbee students comes over, realizes Martin is dead, and both players panic. Quickly they snatch the Frisbee and the two disappear, along with the evidence...so therefore, the death was _not_ intentional, but accidental-"

"-until they tried to cover it up," Lisbon finished the thought, "and then it became a crime."

Jane nodded.

"And I bet," he suggested, "if you asked around, students will be able to identify who the two regular Frisbee players are. And if you recover the Frisbee, there still might even be some of the professor's DNA on the edge of it."

Lisbon grinned, "I better hurry while I still have all these officers at my disposal!"

And that was how Patrick Jane solved his second crime in about a quarter of an hour.

.

It was late at night as Lisbon sat at her desk, the lone employee in the building. She looked off in the distance, out the window, at the buildings across the way. Their lights seemed to cast a romantic orange glow in her office located on the fifth floor.

The quietude allowed her to dig deep into her private thoughts and she was thinking about Patrick Jane. Yes, he can be overwhelming at times with his smug and confident ways, but beneath that, there was more to his _devil-may-care_ attitude than he cared to show.

Because sometimes, once in a blue moon, when he gave one of his genuine smiles; it was filled with warmth that seemed to radiate from his heart.

But...she sighed, maybe she was having these late night musings in order to avoid finishing the paperwork. That was the worst part of her job because even if she finished her write up, there was another crime just around the corner.

_R-r-ring!_

She was brought out of her revelry by the phone ringing.

Who could be calling at her at this hour? she wondered, as she picked up.

.

The next day in the lecture hall of Sacramento University, students sat listless in their seats, bored.

They were waiting for another in a long line of substitute 'guest teacher' to arrive and deliver another dull Criminology lecture. Most of them were even contemplating changing majors.

The door opened and in walked a confident Patrick Jane.

Most of their flat expressions did not change, although a few of the young co-eds sat up slightly straighter in their seats.

"Good day, eager young minds, my name is Patrick Jane," he introduced, "I'll be your instructor extraordinaire for today."

Some students exchanged smirks, others continued texting, one person was doing electronic Sudoku, while two yawned.

"And now that I have your _divided_ attention," he said sardonically, "I understand that most of you probably consider attending lectures to be on the same level as using the sleep aid Ambien..."

At the bluntness of his statement, some students managed to smile slightly while others began to perk up.

"Lectures do not teach you everything you need to know," Jane stated unexpectedly," but they may stimulate your mind to think critically about a subject. And my way of stimulating your mind requires that you participate in my lecture, so..."

He looked around and then pointed to a student three rows up.

"Let's see...YOU," he identified, "with the blue cap."

The student looked shocked, "M-me?" he said, pointing to himself.

"Yes, YOU...You are _not_ participating correctly in this class. Stop playing games on your iphone," he stated, as he looked around some more, "and YOU, YOU, YOU and YOU," he indicated four different students, "stop texting ...and YOU and YOU, stop reading emails."

Heads turned this way and that, as the guilty parties put away any extraneous activities.

"That's better," Jane smiled, "because, believe me, no one's lectures can compete with things that bings, blinks or blings! Interest in a lecture, by the way, is merely the result of devoting energy to the appreciation of a topic. So let's begin, shall we?"

The students didn't know what to make of Jane, but at least no one looked drowsy.

"I'm sure all of you consider yourselves as being observant, right?" Jane continued, as several heads nodded, "but what we filter from it is usually open to interpretation. Sometimes we have to look at a situation from a unique or unexpected point of view."

He looked around the classroom.

"YOU," he pointed to a female student in the second row who looked shocked to be chosen.

"Oh, um, yes?"

"Let's see if you can think outside the box," Jane challenged, "Answer this short mystery_: Tom loves taking walks in the shadowy park at night with his dog. One evening his flashlight stops working. He can't see a thing, but he's not worried at all. Why not?"_

The student looked completely baffled.

"Maybe..." she began, "...the _dog_ has a flashlight?"

The class chuckled as Jane smiled.

"Sorry-this isn't a cartoon."

Another student raised her hand.

"There are streetlights up above?" the student guessed.

"Unfortunately," Jane said, "none are positioned at the park. Anyone else?"

He saw they gave up.

"Quite simple, really," he revealed, "Tom is blind. The flashlight was used for others to see _him_."

It had been so obvious, yet no one could figure it out. Jane was now looking around the classroom again.

"YOU," he said to a male in a plaid shirt, "Listen to this story and tell me what the logical assumption is..._Imagine that you arrive back to your apartment after a weekend trip to find your favorite coffee mug broken on the floor beside the dining room table. Upon close examination, you see your cat's paw prints on the table top._ What is your conclusion?"

The plaid shirt student looked uncomfortable.

"Uhh," the student said, "that the cat is going to have to get a 'time out'?"

There were some snickerings.

"Perhaps, but in this case, _no_." Jane confirmed, "The logical conclusion was that the cat had been walking around the table and had knocked the mug to the floor, _but_ could that be the _only_ obvious choice?"

The class looked stumped.

This time when he looked around, he saw Teresa Lisbon sitting in the classroom. The sides of his mouth turned upward and Lisbon realized she was about to become part of the class. Preparing herself, she squared her shoulders as she drew her body up straight.

_And sure enough, he picked on her._

"YOU, in the blue suit..." he pointed to Lisbon.

"Me," she said, not sounding surprised.

"Yes," Jane said, liking to put her on the spot, "Your opinion regarding the mug and the cat situation."

Lisbon's mind was working fast, "...maybe the mug was broken first and THEN the cat jumped on the table."

"Not bad," he said, not helping her much, "but, give me a logical explanation how this could have occurred."

She was ready, "Perhaps a small earthquake had occurred while the owner was gone and the chaotic trembling caused the mug to come crashing down, which then made the cat so jittery that he jumped up on the table, thus the unexplained paw prints."

He nodded, quite impressed.

"That is EXACTLY what I am saying!" Jane's eyes lit with excitement, "you should consider being a detective," he jested to her.

"Too bad...I already have a career in mind," Lisbon claimed, straight-faced.

Jane hid his smile.

By the time he looked around the class again, he had the students' complete attention.

_"Question!"_ he exclaimed, as he paced back and forth with his index finger up. All eyes were on him. Then he stopped as he presented his scenario.

"_A woman walks into a bar and asks the barman for a glass of water. The bartender pulls out a gun and points it at the woman. The woman says "Thank you" and walks out_. What just happened?"

He looked around and a couple of students cringe, not wanting to be pick.

"YOU with the braid," he said, pointing to a female, "can you explain why the bartender pulled a gun and pointed to the woman?"

She didn't know, "Be-cause...he's a male chauvinist?"

A male student raised his hand, "The bartender was mad due to a water shortage?"

"Both guesses were not even close," Jane said, looking about, "anyone else?"

Everyone was stumped but they were definitely curious.

"The woman had hiccups," Jane explained, as if the answer was obvious, "The bartender recognized this from her speech and drew the gun on her in order to give her a shock. It worked, she didn't need the water."

The class was actually leaning forward, wanting to hear more.

"These were examples of seemingly irrational and incongruous situations having simple answers that are not obvious," he explained, "so there's more to observing than just recording what we see. Let's do some other examples..."

The students were mesmerized the rest of the two hours Jane spoke. At one point as he looked out in the crowd, he caught Lisbon's eye, but chose not to single her out again. Time had passed quickly for the class.

"So what is the point of all this?" he concluded, "these exercises were to show you that there's a little misconception when it comes to perception-we think we get the whole picture, but we must be open to more than one interpretation. Consider everything before drawing your conclusions," he advised them, and then with one more smile, he ended the lecture with a simple, "It's been fun. Thank you."

Everyone was surprised that it was over so soon. They were quite convinced that this was one of the most fascinating lectures that they had ever heard.

As students passed by Jane in order to depart, they uttered small phrases to him, "Great lecture"..."Thanks, Mr. Jane"..."Hope you come back!"..."I enjoyed that!"..."See you soon..."

Jane could hear the footsteps of departing students as he gathered up his notes from the desk. He didn't look up, even when he heard approaching footsteps. Instead he continued to shove his notes into his briefcase.

"You make an excellent student, Lisbon," he merely said.

He looked up and their gazes unexpectedly locked.

Beneath his cool exterior, he felt his body getting warm at how fresh and lovely she looked today. Meanwhile, Lisbon could feel heat rising to her cheeks at his presence.

Something passed between them, but it was so fast, neither had time to reflect nor understand.

"Maybe I'm so good as your student because I'm used to being put on the spot by you," she wryly said.

Jane grinned, "What are you doing here, anyway, Lisbon? I would've thought you wouldn't want to be within a ten mile radius of me."

"We need to talk," she obliquely stated.

"Oh?" he wondered, feeling excited at the thought of working with her again, "_Another _case you need me to solve?"

How had she forgotten so soon about that huge ego of his? Any attraction she felt for him here quickly subsided and she was immediately glad that at least this time, she would not be feeding his crime -solving ego.

"Not quite," she sounded coolly professional, "Last night I had received a phone call."

He didn't like the way that sounded, "I have a feeling you are not here to deliver good news."

"Let's just say," she calmly told him, "that I don't think you're going to like it."

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_Yes, case #2 is over, but case #3 is just beginning!_

___More to come!_

_Thanks for all the reviews/alerts/faves...very much appreciated!_

_Please review_


	3. Chapter 3

Case #3 Begins

Chapter 3

They were alone in the lecture hall as Lisbon stepped forward and told him she needed to talk to him about something.

Jane eyed her with an interest which made her feel weak all over. He, too, felt a peculiar sensation passed through him at the sight of Lisbon as well. To him, it felt a gentle heat, much like when sunlight dance upon a sparkling pond.

"By the way," Lisbon said, trying to ease into the talk, "that was quite n impressive lecture you just gave. You might want to consider becoming a college Professor in your next career."

"Tsk, tsk, Lisbon," Jane chided her, "You're not going to get rid of me _that_ easily."

Her mouth almost curved into a smile, "Oh darn."

"Now that we have my future career planned out," he stated to her, "what is this news you have that I won't like?"

Lisbon was afraid he'd ask that.

She drew herself taller, bracing herself, "This actually concerns our victim's best friend, Marco Bellini."

Jane scowled. _What could have happened to_ _Professor Martin's friend_?

"Don't tell me _he_ was murdered, too?" he speculated.

"No, nothing like that," she waved her hand as if to banish that thought, "The friend, Marco Bellini, had called to thank me...thank _us_...for solving the murder," she couldn't look at Jane directly, as a blush rose to her cheeks at what she was about to announce, "...so he wants to treat us to dinner. Tonight."

She watched intently for Jane's reaction.

"Well, well, "he couldn't have looked more pleased, "Dinner tonight...with _you_? And why would you think I wouldn't like the idea?"

"I suppose I was just projecting _my_ thoughts onto _you_," she told him, feeling awkward at the thought that they would be socializing for the first time outside of work.

"I see," Jane said, "and which part bothers you? The part about us being on a _date?_"

He gave that impish smile that could melt a woman's heart. Except Lisbon's. Or, so she thought as she ignored the responsive pulse in her body.

"Not a date, Jane," Lisbon told him, "we'll also be dining with Bellini, remember?...Of course, if _you_ can't make_ it_..."

She held her breath.

But didn't know why.

He gave her a measuring stare.

"I just have one request from you, Lisbon."

_Oh God._

"What is it?" her tone sounded annoyed.

He had a glint in his eye.

"When you come pick me up, I prefer for you to show up with chocolates instead of flowers."

_At least he was making light of the situation._

_But he was still irritating._

She let out a frustrated breath.

"Not a date, not a date, NOT A DATE!" she responded, repeating it like a mantra to him.

He smiled.

Jane was actually looking forward for tonight. Despite his being on a one-man mission to find Red John, he enjoyed pushing the _fun_ button on Lisbon. It was like a little ray of sunshine in his dreary, determined existence.

"Too bad this _wasn't_ a date," Jane regrettably announced.

As usual, Lisbon could not figure out where Jane was going with this, but it was enough to keep her curious.

"Why would you say that? Are you so desperate for a date?"

His expression gave away nothing.

"No," Jane commented airily, "but think of it this way, Lisbon; if **_I_** don't have a date, it means someone else will have _two_ of them."

And despite herself, Lisbon laughed.

.

Although Sacramento doesn't officially have an area known as "Little Italy", it has pockets of area with fine Italian cuisine. Down Auburn-Folsom Road are a number of dining places known for their unrivaled Italian cuisine.

And where Auburn-Folsom Road intersected with Pacific Avenue was _Pietro's_, one of the more successful dining establishments at the end of the block.

Jane and Lisbon sat at one of tables with the checkered red and white tablecloths, a Chiati bottle candle lit at its center.. They had just finished a divine dinner of Pumpkin Cappellacci , risotto, wine and finished with a flourless chocolate cake with Chantilly cream.

Wearing his usual rumpled three piece suit, Jane was surprised to see Lisbon had actually taken some effort to dress up. Instead of her usual severe suits, she was wearing a lovely red halter dress that fitted closely to her tiny waist before billowing softly out. It helped to amp her natural curves a few notches higher. She really was a beautiful woman with a quick, brilliant mind to match.

And he wasn't the only one who noticed it.

Bellini's eyes lit up at the sight of Lisbon.

"Ah, Bella signora!" Marco Bellini announced, a slight Italian accent detected. Taking her outstretched hand, he reached down and used his lips to lightly touched the back of Lisbon's hand, "Much pleasure to meet such lovely woman!"

Bellini was an attractive man with curly dark hair and deep brown eyes. Some people might say he had an Old World charm about him. Of course, Jane was not some people.

Lisbon whole face seemed to glow at his compliment, "And it's nice to meet you, too, Mr. Bellini," she said, as he pulled out the chair so she could be seated.

"Thank you," she happily cooed, obviously liking the attention.

Jane tried to act as though it didn't bother him, which of course, only made him more aware of Bellini's charismatic force.

It was going to be a _long_ night, at least for one person.

.

(An hour later)

They had just finished a delightful meal. Throughout the entire course of the meal, Bellini had regaled Lisbon and Jane with tales of his many adventures. Evidently, Bellini had traveled the world, despite merely being a housepainter.

Lisbon was laughing as Bellini described what it was like living in Italy with his large extended family, where everyone's first or last name ended in a vowel and everyone ate seven meals a day, instead of the traditional three.

"You had a wonderful life back there in Italy," Lisbon pleasantly commented.

"_Si_, truly I miss my home!" he announced fondly, while at the same time focusing his eyes on Lisbon, "but, _veritiero,_ this country have most _beautiful_ _women in world!_"

Lisbon looked down, her cheeks slightly red-stained.

Meanwhile Jane sat there, uninvolved, until Bellini turned his way.

"Mr. Jane, you much quiet tonight. You not enjoy dinner and company?"

"Some of it was nice," Jane truthfully responded, "but at other times, it was piled on _rather thick_..."

Lisbon shot a look at Jane.

Bellini looked confused, "Eh? What you mean, _pile on __thick_?"

"Don't mind Mr. Jane," Lisbon inserted, "the meal and company were divine, Mr. Bellini," she assured him.

"Call me Marco, _per favore,"_ he insisted to Lisbon, while his eyes lingered seductively on her.

Just then three after-dinner espressos were placed before them, served by head waitress Gabriella, who then quickly retreated.

Bellini tasted the espresso and next, smacked his lips, "_Molta deliziosa_! It is fine drink, yes?"

It was getting late and Jane had enough of this fakeness.

"Perhaps the drink is delicious, but I'm not enjoying the crap you've been giving us, Bellini," he blurted out.

Lisbon gasped.

Bellini looked stunned.

"_Cosa?!_" he asked, his tone challenging.

"_Jane_," reprimanded an aggravated Lisbon.

Jane looked unperturbed.

"Stop with the phony enthusiasm and accent," he told Bellini, "I'm sure you speak English as well as me."

Bellini did not look shock at Jane's accusation. He opened his mouth and then shut it again. Then when he made his decision on how to proceed, he turned to Lisbon, his eyes rueful and sincere.

"My apologies to you, dear lady," he said in a pitch perfect English, "My intentions were good. Women seemed to be quite charmed by traditional European men, although it obviously didn't impress Mr. Jane."

"Obviously," Jane said dryly.

"Oh..." Lisbon shifted uncomfortably in her seat at how easily she had been fooled.

"Although you may now doubt my sincerity, "Bellini had a contrite look, "I was being most truthful, Agent Lisbon, when I said you are a beautiful woman. I hope you believe that."

Jane rolled his eyes while she flashed a forgiving smile at Bellini.

"Don't worry, everything is fine between us, Marco," she assured him while head-gesturing Jane, "I'm just sorry _some_ people have forgotten their manners."

Jane shrugged, "This has nothing to do with manners. I'm just letting you know that Mr. Bellini is not whom he appears to be. I have a feeling we haven't even scratched the surface as to the real him yet."

Lisbon thought he crossed the line of rudeness with that statement.

"Now, _Jane._.." she began, intent on scolding him.

But then she noted Bellini's expression. He had the look of someone that had something to confess. She watched as Bellini leaned towards Jane and spoke in a low voice.

_"That, _Mr. Jane, is very perceptive of you_..."_

Jane nodded knowingly as he looked directly at him.

"What do you _really_ want from us, Bellini," Jane ordered.

Bellini took a deep breath,"_...I can trust you two, can't I_?" he asked them, looking at one, then the other.

Jane shrugged, "It's a little late to ask that now, isn't it?"

"Indeed," he agreed.

Bellini clasped his hands together and placed them on the table, "the truth of the matter is...I think something terrible will happen to me in the near future."

"Go on," Lisbon encouraged.

"It's hard to explain.." Bellini was struggling with his words, "but at times it's like the hairs on the back of my neck stands straight up, yet when I turn quickly around, no one's there. I'm alone."

"Sounds like you feel you're being watched, " Jane guessed.

"A possibility," Bellini turned to look at Jane, his face lined with worry, "_but I don't know._ Like I've already stated, it's just...a foreboding sense I have that something terribly tragic is about to happen and I can't stop it, you know?" he then leaned back and tried to push the thought aside, "but I shouldn't burden you like this; maybe I'm just being overly-paranoid...I hope I haven't ruined your evening meal..."

"No, of course not!" Lisbon assured him, "however, we'd like to help you, if we can."

"I don't really know what it is I expected that you could do," he said, looking hopeless.

"We could offer you protection," she offered, "but it's best we don't discuss it out in the open like this. If you want, why don't you drop by my office tomorrow and we can talk some more then?"

He considered it.

"Yes, I think that is a fine idea," he told her, "I can drop by during lunchtime and we can go out... that is, if you're available, _Teresa_..."

He gave her his most alluring smile.

Jane interceded.

"-AFTER lunch would be better, actually," Jane advised him, "my lunch hour is very valuable to me. I don't like working during that time."

He made it plain that he would also be there.

Lisbon glanced Jane's way, perplexed at his interference. If she didn't know any better, she'd think he was acting jealous. But that's ridiculous.

The message, however, was made clear to Bellini.

"I understand. Then I'll come by at 2," he politely said before his voice became loud again as he stood, "And now, I believe I will call it a night, my friends!" he once more, looked jovial, "I have already taken care of the check, so feel free to stay and enjoy your drinks. Until tomorrow, Mr. Jane and _Bella_ _donna...Ciao!_"

Then he turned and he was gone.

Lisbon and Jane stayed for a time leisurely finishing their drinks. After leaving a generous tip, they also got up to leave.

.

_As Lisbon and Jane left the restaurant together, they barely took note of the lean, angular-faced man at the bar, seemingly nursing a glass of whiskey._

_But Wylon Merton, the mysterious man at the bar, was keenly aware of Lisbon and Jane's departure._

_And outside, Lisbon and Jane didn't sense Merton's presence in the shadows as they walked to Lisbon's car, or feel his gaze when they drove away._

_No, they didn't noticed, for one was ever aware of Wylon Merton until it was always too late._

.

.

When Jane entered Lisbon's office the next morning, she was busy reading a file while eating a Danish roll. She was back to her working suits, but Jane was still impressed with how feminine and fresj she looked in a business pants suit.

"Already at work, I see," Jane commented as he sat across from her, "So on the weekdays you read reports, and on the weekends you type_up_ these reports."

Lisbon didn't deny it.

"I'm just trying to read up some more on Marco Bellini," she told him and then she got a puzzled look on her face, "but his file seems strangely incomplete."

"I'm not surprised," Jane said.

"That's because _nothing_ surprises you," she commented as she took another bite of her roll and then held it out, "Want some?"

"No, I can only take tea this early in the morning," he informed her, as he made a gesture to get up, "so I think I'll head out to the kitchen to brew a pot."

"Ooo, that sounds like a great idea," Lisbon said, "how about bringing a cup back for me, too?"

He smiled, "I would be more than happy to, _Bella donna_."

She smiled back, her heart skittering a bit at hearing Jane speak Italian.

_R-r-ring!_

Her phone; she looked at caller ID.

"Wait...don't go yet, it's Cho," Lisbon announced as she brought the phone to her ear, "Cho? What is it?"

Jane couldn't hear what Cho was saying, but by the look on her face, he knew it wouldn't be good news. Slowly she hung up, staring off in the distance.

"Lisbon? Something's wrong," Jane declared the obvious.

"Yes," she seemed dazed.

"What is it?"

Lisbon took a deep breath before she continued, her eyes had saddened when she looked over at him.

"It's regarding Marco Bellini," she announced, her voice a bit shaky, "_he's dead_."

.

.

_Please review_


	4. Chapter 4

Obtaining information

_(I am forever grateful for all readers/reviewers!)_

Chapter 4

The morgue felt cold.

The floor was cement, gradually sloping toward several area drains for easy cleaning with a hose. One wall was lined with a half dozen refrigerated drawers for the bodies. There were two autopsy tables in the center of the room.

On one of the autopsy tables laid Marco Bellini, his bottom half covered with a white sheet., his chest cut opened. Meanwhile, Jane elected to stay safely in the background, peering over Lisbon's shoulder.

"You're here a little early, Agent Lisbon," Dr. Steiner, the coroner said, glancing quickly up before continuing to survey the corpse again, "I hope you are doing well."

To Lisbon the coroner seemed to have a depressed demeanor. But then, Lisbon analyzed, if she had to cut up bodies all day long, she would have one, too.

"I'm doing fine, Doctor," Lisbon said, "Sorry about the early hour. We came over as soon as we heard. And you remember Patrick Jane," Lisbon indicated Jane.

Steiner looked up and nodded as an understanding seem to pass between the two men, "Nice to see you again, Mr. Jane. Feel free to step up closer to the body. He won't bite, I promise."

That was obviously Dr. Steiner's version of morgue humor.

Nevertheless, Jane stepped forward so that he was now side by side with Lisbon.

"The view is much better here, thank you, Doctor," Jane said, "although you'll have to excuse me if I'm a little green around the edges."

Dr. Steiner pleasantly smiled. He clearly enjoyed Jane's company, something Lisbon didn't understand.

Meanwhile, Jane watched Lisbon as she regarded Bellini's body. He was attempting to see if she would become emotional over the death of a man who had been obviously enamored of her. Instead, she was very clinical with the way she scrutinize the body, looking at it in the same detached way she viewed every dead body. There was no emotional investment.

Jane somehow felt relieved. At the same time, he wondered how she would react if he were on the slab.

He wanted to think she would care. At least a little.

"So what were your findings, Doctor?" she was asking the coroner.

"Outside of that small gash on his forehead, Mr. Bellini was in very good health," Steiner stated, "But as of now, I'm not ready to officially release the cause of death."

But Lisbon was getting impatient, "The police believed Mr. Bellini drowned. Isn't it just a matter of you checking for water in the lungs to making that determination?"

"Determining that a person drowned is more difficult than one might suspect." Steiner told her, "Even with minimal water in his lungs, a person can still 'drown'. In cases of 'dry drowning' where a victim 's body had been immersed, the laryngospam reflex essentially causes asphyxiation and neurogenic pulmonary edema. So very little water could be aspirated into the lungs, yet essentially the person drowned because his lungs were unable to extract oxygen from the air."

"So basically a little or a lot of water in the lungs doesn't tell us if he accidentally drowned," Jane then pointed to the forehead of dead victim, "That wound on his forehead...could someone have hit him there, causing him to fall and drown in the pool?"

"Again it's hard to say when the victim received that wound. It could have occurred postmortem. All I can tell you is that outside of that wound, there were no other signs of a struggle."

"So no drugs or alcohol were found in his system that might have affected his awareness while swimming?" Lisbon asked.

The doctor shook his head.

"None," the doctor said, "but of course, I've only completed the preliminary drug screenings. If you have any particular drugs you'd like me to test for, I'd be more than happy to comply."

"No," Lisbon said, "I'm just trying to cover all angles."

"I'll be able to tell you more after I've completed the autopsy," Steiner explained, "all I can say now is that Mr. Bellini suffered a tragic accident."

"Tragic, yes," Jane acknowledged, "but I don't think it was an accident."

Dr. Steiner darted a glance at Jane. Unlike other experts, he wasn't put off with Jane's contradictory theories. If anything, he admired it. Jane was an original, much like himself.

The type of person the world wouldn't understand.

Lisbon only hoped that Jane didn't say shocking things just to annoy people.

"Jane," Lisbon tried to head him off at the pass, "you know that Cho was doing a me a favor by giving me a heads up about Bellini's death, so maybe we shouldn't jump to hasty deductions. If could have been a freaky accident. The police have already concluded that there was no evidence of anyone else being present at the time of the murder-"

"-and the police have never been wrong?" Jane countered

"No, but what you are saying," Lisbon stated slowly, "is that you believe Marco Bellini was murdered by drowning, although there is no evidence to further indicate that."

"I couldn't have said it better, myself, so thank you, Lisbon," Jane stated casually.

Dr. Steiner was very good at what he did, but he was also a very fair and open minded individual. Especially when it came to Patrick Jane.

"Perhaps, Mr. Jane, " the coroner invited him, "you'd like to elaborate as to why you think this wasn't purely an accident."

Jane was ready with his answer and he didn't need any medical technology to back him up, either.

"This wasn't an accident because Bellini had been swimming in his own pool," he simply said.

"That's _it?_" Lisbon gave him her usual puzzled expression, "We already know he probably drowned in his own pool. Why couldn't that be just an accident?"

"It's very logical, Lisbon," Jane said composedly, "Bellini obviously was familiar with his own pool. He would have known the approximate size of his pool and therefore would have been aware of when the side of the pool was coming up. Dr. Steiner had stated that he had no alcohol or drugs in his system, so, with a clear mind, there would have been no reason for Bellini to misjudged the side of his own pool. Therefore, everything points to murder."

Lisbon couldn't deny the logic of that.

Dr. Stein placed his hand on his chin, in deep thought. He then looked back at the body and methodically began to re-explore Bellini's upper torso area.

"Well..._I'll_ _be_..." he breathlessly emphasized, sounding as if he had an epiphany.

"What is it, Doctor?" Lisbon asked.

Dr. Steiner then picked up a scalpel that had been on the nearby table to use it as a pointer.

"After what Mr. Jane said, I took a second look at the chest area and I think he may be correct," he indicated an area of Bellini's opened chest with the scalpel, " I don't see any evidence of bleeding in the surrounding tissues here. That means his heart had already stopped pumping and blood was no longer circulating through his body. He was dead before he hit the water."

Lisbon moved forward to get a better look, but Jane had also decided to lean in at the same time.

For a split second their shoulders touched, causing both of them to feel a jolt riding up their backs. When Lisbon turned her head, Jane's face was so close to hers. She saw up close the attractive shadow of his bristled jaw, noted the intensity of his blue eyes and she swallowed hard.

Her searching gaze held his, and Jane felt his insides tighten in response. He regarded Lisbon's feminine face , so near to his own that he could feel her erratic breathing and he experienced a dizzying type of feeling he hadn't felt in years.

And then he began wondering why he was having these thoughts when they were inside a _morgue._

"Mr. Jane?" Dr. Steiner had evidently been earlier calling his name, "Do you have any theories as to why someone would want to kill Bellini?"

"None yet," Jane felt unbalanced and just said the first thing that came to his mind, "And you?"

"Why ask me about that? What would **_I_** know about motives of a killer?," Dr. Steiner stated, "I'm the coroner."

Jane couldn't believe he had been so distracted.

"Actually, I was asking the question to Lisbon," Jane said, covering up his own awkwardness.

"Then why don't you look at her when you ask her instead of me?" Dr. Steiner questioned.

Jane took a quick glance at her and could see she looked slightly embarrassed, too.

"Lisbon?" Jane said.

"Hmm? What?" she didn't know what was wrong with her. She had missed part of the conversation.

"Possible motives for the murder?" Jane helped to remind her.

"Oh, yes. Motive. Murder. We should look into that," she said, almost absentmindedly, "Thank you, Dr. Steiner for your expertise."

"Of course," Dr. Steiner said, looking from one to another in a light-hearted manner, "just be sure to get your priorities set right, Agent Lisbon. Same with you, Mr. Jane."

Lisbon and Jane gave the coroner confused looks, not sure what he was implying. But he was already in his own little world as he continued to examine the body. So Lisbon and Jane headed towards the door.

Still dazed, they weren't sure what had just occurred between them.

And they didn't know if they wanted to find out.

.

.

_Wylon Merton was the type of person that was always ready, even for the unexpected._

_Once he had killed Marco Bellini he had planned to leave Sacramento immediately. But his plans changed when last night he had noted the attractive couple sitting with Bellini at the restaurant._

_As he continued watching the couple conversing with Bellini at their table, he was bothered by their seemingly intense conversation. His sixth sense told him something was not right. Why was Bellini whispering to them with a worried look on his face? Was he telling them the secret?_

_How much did they know?_

_Merton didn't think the couple was a threat, at least, not yet, but he was curious about them. The woman seemed in control, but he knew not to underestimate anyone. Maybe the man was the brain. He didn't look to be the muscle._

_Thoroughness._

_That's what he had always been about._

_So today he had followed them. He watched them enter the county morgue. A few minutes after they disappeared into the building, Merton got out of his car and strode up the sidewalk to her parked vehicle._

_It wasn't difficult to break into the woman's car. He was an expert at picking locks. He was now seated on the driver's seat. Opening the glove box, he ruffled through the papers and got lucky. He pulled out an envelope from the phone company with the female's name and address printed on the front._

_Teresa Lisbon._

_He took out his mini-pad and jotted her name down. . It will be easy to find out her identity. Removing the phone bill inside, he used his cellphone camera to take a picture of the people she called. He then put all the papers back, locked the doors, and returned to his own vehicle. The entire task took less than two minutes to accomplish yet it reaped enormous benefits._

_Now he had a name, a home address and with his expertise at the computer, he could easily obtain other information such as her credit card number, her job and even the identity of her accomplice._

_It would only take an hour on the computer to know everything he needed to know about this Lisbon woman._

.

_Now back in his own car, Merton had his laptop plugged in and after typing in his computer and looking at the results, he did not like what he discovered._

_Teresa Lisbon is a senior agent for the CBI._

_Not good._

_Then checking through the list of phone calls, he narrowed the frequent callers to a few and finally with some checking ascertained that the male with her was Patrick Jane, a consultant to the CBI. With further research, it seemed that the male, Jane, was infamously known as a mentalist before losing his family._

_ He didn't care about the tragic end to his family, but he was interested in how Jane's background could affect what Bellini told them._

_As he sat in his car, he looked up in time to see the door to the county building opening and Merton saw Lisbon and Jane emerged. He quickly logged off and started the engine to his car. He tailed them as they pulled out from their parking place._

_Following two cars behind Lisbon, his mind kept wondering as to how much the woman agent knew. Maybe they figured out the death wasn't accidental. He reviewed every move he made in the preparation and execution of his job and couldn't see his mistake._

_Yet the coincidence of a CBI agent talking with Marco Bellini could not be taken lightly._

_And if Marco Bellini HAD talked before he was murdered, Merton's job wasn't finished yet. _

_He needed to know Lisbon and Jane's involvement in all of this. He learned from skimming the archives that they were not to be taken lightly. Although new as a team, they had solved a double homicide together that had been attributed to Red John and more recently, the Frisbee Killers case ._

_He needed to find out what they knew._

_He followed Lisbon's car until they had reached the El Dorado Hill/Folsom area. It was obvious where they were going. To the exclusive residence of Marco Bellini._

_At the first opportunity, he made a U-turn and headed his car in the opposite direction. Driving at a sensible speed, he was careful not to go fast enough to make his tires screech or call attention to himself. __He was off to plant a listening device at Lisbon's place._

_Even in the daylight, he worked in the shadows._

_Lisbon and Jane had no chance against him._

_Wylon Merton was in total control of the situation._

_._

.


	5. Chapter 5

Private time

Chapter 5

Standing on the porch and peeking through the window, Lisbon and Jane could see that murdered victim Marco Bellini's house was like a scaled down version of the restaurant where they had met him - very Italian with a minimalist, cool, yet sophisticated feel to it. Lots of black and white furniture.

"Looks to be a nice place," Lisbon commented, as she knocked on the contemporary black door. When no one answered, she tried the doorknob. It was unlock. Lisbon and Jane exchanged looks.

She pulled out her gun as a matter of caution and they both entered the house.

"CBI! Hello? Anyone here?" Lisbon announced.

There was no answer as they carefully stepped into a spacious living room with a high open-beam ceiling. On the counter was Bellini's wallet and car keys. When Jane looked inside the wallet, he verified the ID as belonging to Marco Bellini. So this was definitely his place.

The rest of the house was immaculately clean, every surface gleaming. Lisbon had disappeared to check the other rooms.

She soon came back to Jane in the living room, "Clear. No one's here," she noted.

She then reached in her pocket and withdrew rubber gloves and handed a pair to him.

"Here," she said.

He looked down at the gloves.

"A present...for _me?_" Jane feigned surprise, "I didn't think you cared..."

A slight grin peeked out, but she recovered quickly.

"Try not to disturb anything," Lisbon brusquely told him, as she also slipped on her pair. Jane was still feeling playful as he slipped on his gloves.

"You _always_ carry an extra set of rubber gloves with you?" he asked, one brow lifted.

Lisbon shrugged, "I find it's quite a conversation starter."

Jane looked incredulous.

"I don't believe it, Lisbon. You actually have a sense of humor!"

She wanted to smile in response, but instead she kept her game face on.

"Yes, I do, but like a blue moon, you won't see it often. I wouldn't want to spoil you," she said, looking around, "so let's instead get to work, shall we?" she suggested, as she began a more thorough search of the living room.

Jane's eyes swept the room, taking note of the lack of furniture and the few paintings on the wall.

"How strange," he commented.

Lisbon had been looking through Bellini's mail on the counter and looked over to Jane, "What is?"

"This place is exceptionally orderly..."

Lisbon gave him a questioning glance, "You think it's strange that someone keeps an organized house?"

"There's squeaky clean and then there's _creepy_ clean...it's like visiting a model home... it's all for show," Jane commented, now observing the walls and floors that looked like new.

"So you think Bellini was obsessed with cleanliness?" Lisbon asked.

"No, it's more than that..." Jane declared, "the furniture looks unused and it's missing any personal touches, such as...photos or personal mementos."

Lisbon seemed to understand his point, and gave the room a second look.

"You're right," she agreed, "this place _is r_ather sterile, now that you've mentioned it." she acknowledged, as she put the letters down and walked away.

Jane agreed, "Not only that, but-"

He stopped as he realized he was the only one in the living room. She had disappeared into the bedroom.

_I hope her disappearing act won't be a habit,_ he thought as he followed her into the bedroom.

"Find something interesting in here?" he inquired.

"Just seeing if the bedroom is just as neat and empty as his living room," Lisbon said, "and it is."

The master bedroom was as immaculate and impersonal as the rest of the house. The blankets on the king-size bed was perfectly made, no lumps whatsoever.

"So his bedroom is just as creepy as the rest of his house," Jane commented, still looking around.

Lisbon shouldered her gun and plopped on the bed.

"Jane," Lisbon unexpectedly proposed, as she patted the top of the covers, "Hop on the bed."

Jane turned and eyed her, "Uh, what?"

Oh, Lisbon was enjoying this. She looked at him sideways and a slight grin suddenly appeared on her face when she saw what she interpreted as discomfort on his face. There was a part of her that enjoyed catching him off-guard, a rarity for him, she was sure of that.

She started bouncing, "Come here, join me," she invited him.

The more awkward he felt, the better she liked it.

"I don't see the purpose," he said, although he couldn't take his eyes off of her bouncing form, "besides, um...aren't you all about the investigation?"

"What do you think I'm doing? Come on, Jane, " she invited again, as she patted a spot next to herself "you won't regret it."

She was expecting him to stare awkwardly at her invitation, but instead, a large grin slowly crossed his face.

"I'll be right there," he simply stated.

Lisbon's smile was wiped from her face when she saw him making a running leap towards the bed.

_Bhummmp!_

He had hurled his body on top of the bed and sat on the covers, forcing his body up and down in order to make the bed bounce even more.

Lisbon had originally thought to embarrass him, but now that he was next to her playfully bouncing, she felt competitive and was determined to 'out-bounce' him. Still sitting, she bounced up even higher in the air, inducing him to bounce higher. This caused them to catapult each other higher and higher above the bed.

They were both laughing and having a grand time.

Lisbon gave two more big jumps and then stopped, as if a different thought entered her mind.

"Don't move," she instructed.

He halted and the bed became still, too.

"Lisbon, you better not tell me you see a spider," Jane warned her, "because I _hate _spiders."

"No, nothing like that," she said, now sounding serious, "Notice anything?"

He looked confused, "And _what_ exactly am I suppose to notice?"

Lisbon liked that she knew something he didn't. She turned slowly and gave him a small smile. Then without notice, she suddenly laid down in a prone position.

"Come lay down here, now, Jane!" she invited him.

_She was actually being as unpredictable as him!_

Jane looked quizzically at her, "Lisbon, are you trying to-"

Though still in a horizontal position, she tilted her head up to view him.

"For heaven's sake, Jane! I'm not trying to seduce you in a dead victim's house! Just_ lay down!_"

"Alright, but if you stick a spider in my face, our partnership is over!" Jane exclaimed as he scooted up to lay prone on the bed. Once they were both flat on their backs, she forced her body to move up and down. At last she stopped.

"Did you feel it?" she asked, slightly breathless from the jump movements.

_Yeah, he definitely felt something._

"F-feel it?" he repeated.

Lisbon turned towards him.

She hadn't realized how close her body was to his. The way he watched her caused her heart to skip a beat. Lisbon took a deep breath and tried to calm the nervous flurries in her stomach.

She was actually alone in a bedroom with a very attractive, brilliant man; someone who actually intrigued her.

For once, Jane was quiet, trying to absorb the sensation of being with alone with Lisbon. He was surrounded by her clean, feminine scent and he swore he could feel the heat emanating from her body. He hadn't felt this way since he had been with Angela, which now seemed a faraway memory.

Turning to one side, he got up on one elbow to face her, never taking his eyes off of her.

"Teresa," his voice was thick yet sensual. He struggled with the heeding of his conscience and the pure physical pleasure of being so near her. And he couldn't help it as he reached out his hand to lightly touch her cheek.

A soft gasp escaped from Lisbon but she did not move away. If anything, her body leaned slightly closer, seeking more of the delicious contact from him.

His gaze met hers with searing contact.

"What was I suppose to feel?..."

He was so near now, Lisbon felt his breath tickling her skin pleasantly.

"What? " she could barely hear her own words above the fast beating of her heart.

"You bounced on the bed and asked did I feel it," his voice sounded low and raspy, she could barely make it out.

"Oh, " Lisbon had a slight tremor in her voice, "it's just...this mattress is so new...like it's never been used before."

Jane broke eye contact as he looked down at the bed, "You're right," he said, as he flicked his eyes back at her, " It's like...we're breaking it in."

Lisbon swallowed hard, "We are?"

She met his intense gaze and felt a disturbing sense of intimacy that had suddenly blossomed in the air and it scared and thrilled her at the same time.

_R-r-ring!_

_Her phone was ringing._

Fighting her way back to reality, she forced herself to sit up. Taking the phone out of her pocket, she pushed a button without looking at the ID. She wasn't in the mood to talk with anyone,.

However, whatever moment they shared had dissipated as she felt the depression of the bed and knew Jane had gotten out of the bed. Although Lisbon felt disappointed, she knew Jane had done the right thing. They were officially on an investigation. She took a secret delight, however, in knowing that whatever attraction she had for him, it was not one sided.

Lisbon also got up , went to the closet and slid the door opened. It gave her time to clear her head. Looking in, she noted only a handful of shirts, a few pants, and two suits were in the closet.

"I know of people who lived with minimal," commented Lisbon, pointing out Bellini's wardrobe in the closet, "but not this minimal. There aren't enough outfits here to last a week."

"So what's your conclusion, Lisbon?" Jane asked, relieved to be back on his feet.

Lisbon looked about, " Everything is too new and the place lacks _stuff_. Marco Bellini may have visited here, but he did not _live_ here full time."

Jane nodded, although he still could not look directly at her, "That makes sense. So you're saying that perhaps Bellini had a second life?"

"Perhaps-" Lisbon began before she felt her cellphone vibrating in her pocket again.

"Hold on," she told Jane as she took out her phone and read the ID on the screen, "I better take this one. It's the coroner's office."

Jane now turned and watched as Lisbon put the phone to her ear, listening and nodding and responding before ending the call with, "Thanks, Dr. Steiner." She then hung up and looked at Jane, "Seems that the coroner's final autopsy report fits in with what we discovered in the house. Bellini isn't as he appears. He's been living an illusion."

Jane didn't seem surprise, "An illusion? I had already assumed that."

"Of course, _you _would," she said, "anything else you've got figured out?"

"I also know that your dear friend Marco Bellini had some major plastic surgery done," Jane concluded.

Lisbon's eyes widened.

It really was like he was psychic sometimes.

"You're right," she verified, "According to Dr. Steiner, it turns out Marco Bellini _did_ have extensive plastic surgery done," Lisbon stated, "a chiseled nose, chin, implants in his cheeks, major orthodonture-the works. The shape and features of his face had radically been altered."

"Sounds about right," Jane commented.

"So Bellini had been trying to create a new identity for himself," Lisbon concluded, " The question I have is why he would go through all that trouble? And why pretend to live at some place that he doesn't really reside in?"

"My experience tells me that you don't go through those extremes unless you're running from something...or _someone,_" Jane sagely responded.

.

_From where he sat a little ways down from Marco Bellini's so-called residence, Wylon Merton half chuckled to himself. He knew that once Lisbon and Jane were inside Bellini's house, they would find what he planned for them to find: an unlocked door, the mail, the wallet and house keys. _

_As always, he was meticulous with his plans._

_Of course, he hadn't expected the news of Bellini's other identity to be found out so soon, but even that didn't faze it. If one plan didn't work, he always had a back-up one._

_Rght now, he was working on staying three steps ahead of a CBI agent plus consultant. He had already planted a listening devices in Lisbon's place. He was also able to hide another listening device in her computer. Then he connected it with her cellphone line, which he had bugged by cloning her phone. Now he would be able to pick up on any conversations, as long as the phone was in the same room as them. This was all TOO easy, he thought. _

_With his bugging devices intact, he knew everything they knew at precisely the same time they discovered it._

_Lisbon and Jane had no idea whom they were dealing with._

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_Please review_


	6. Chapter 6

Revenge

Chapter 6

_It had taken years for Wylon Merton to find Marco Bellini._

_But at last he was successful. Merton had been monitoring Bellini's ex-wife and daughter electronically from day one. He knew it was only a matter of time before Bellini would try and contact his daughter._

_It happened on her 18th birthday. The girl got an e-mail from her dad. Oh, it had been cleverly relayed through servers around the world, but Merton was able to track it back to an Internet cafe in Sacramento. From there, it was easy to find him. Though Bellini had changed his face and identity, he could not change the fact that he loved to play golf and eat fine foods. So Merton visited the best restaurants, golf courses and resorts, looking for a single Italian male with exquisite tastes._

_In the end, it didn't take that long to locate Marco Bellini. And it wasn't very hard to kill him and make it look like an accident, either. And it was all going as planned, too. Until Lisbon and Jane began snooping around._

_Later, when Merton checked the internet for a copy of Marco Bellini's death certificate, it now listed his death as a homicide._

_Damn CBI!_

_Obviously, they had been the cause of the investigation being opened again._

_But then, Merton smirked, he was excellent on thinking fast on his feet._

_And he had already figured out how to use Lisbon and Jane to his advantage._

.

When they got back to CBI, the waitress from Pietro's where they had dined with Marco Bellini was waiting for them. She looked very nervous as Lisbon and Jane led her into Lisbon's office to talk.

"So it's true, then," Gabriella said, her eyes brimming with tears, "Mr. Bellini is dead?"

"I'm afraid so," Lisbon empathetically told her, "You say he was a very good customer?"

Gabriella nodded solemnly while wiping her eyes, "Yes, Mr. Bellini came in two or three times a week. He was always happy and very kind to all the waiting staff."

"Did he always dine alone?" Lisbon questioned, "Perhaps you could provide us with some names of his acquaintances or friends."

She shook her head.

"No, when he came to the restaurant, he was always by himself," Gabriella said, "he was friendly, but didn't share any personal information. I barely knew him."

Jane watched her intently.

"You're lying."

Upon hearing that, she made a tiny gasp.

"_Jane_," Lisbon reprimanded him. She tried to smooth the situation over as she looked understandably at Gabriella, "I'm sorry about Mr. Jane's bluntness. When he's tired, he gets grumpy."

"Grumpy doesn't mean I'm not perceptive," Jane stated, still watching Gabriella, "and your reaction to my accusation tells me that you definitely knew him _very_ well, probably have been intimate a few times with him, too."

Gabriella looked away, speculating how to respond. When she turned back to face Jane, there was a guilty look on her face.

"You're right," she admitted, "Marco and I occasionally...hooked up. But I swear, I don't know much about him. He didn't talk much about himself. I don't think he ever mentioned a friend and I know he never mentioned a relative. I'm sorry, I couldn't be more help."

Lisbon looked over at Jane with a mixture of admiration and astonishment at his talent of being able to read people.

_How does he do it every single time, she wondered._

Still, they weren't getting anywhere with the investigation, she sighed.

.

(Much later)

The fire happened in the early morning hours.

The neighbors who lived in the affluent area of El Dorado Hills, where Marco Bellini had last resided, were awakened from a deep sleep at about 2:30 AM. They had seen lights flickering on the outside of their homes and the smell of something burning. The sounds of sirens verified it for them.

Marco's house was consumed by a fiery inferno; the flames licking out the windows and spitting embers into the night sky.

Jane's cellphone rang in the early hours. Groggy-eyed, he wearily forced himself to sit up as he took the phone and held it to his ear. There would only be one person calling him at this hour of the morning. He didn't need to be psychic to know that.

"Yeah, Lisbon," he answered the phone groggily.

She sounded fully awake, "How did you know it was me?"

"You're the only one who would call at this hour," Jane reasoned.

"It could have been Cho or Rigsby," she pointed out.

"No, they actually have a life," he bluntly but honestly responded. After he let out a yawn, he asked, "Anyway, what is it you want?"

"It's regarding Marco Bellini's residence," she told him, "the fire department was called out to his residence. Turns out a fire completely engulfed his home this morning."

Jane didn't even act surprised.

"That fire was not an accident," he confidently declared, "it was arson."

"Really," Lisbon said, sounding hesitant, "because as of now, I was told this has all the makings of an accident. But I'm heading out there now to get some answers."

"Good," Jane said, "Have fun."

He liked the idea that Lisbon was probably stunned at the implication that he would not be there.

And, of course, he was right.

"Oh...you're not coming?" she asked, her voice catching a bit.

In reality, he wanted to go. But he was still puzzled by their exchanged glances in Bellini's bedroom this afternoon. At that time he had felt a sense of yearning, and it bothered him that it might turn to willingness. Holding onto the phone with his left hand, he used his right to reach over to touch the coolness of his wedding ring. He must always remember and never forget his pursuit of Red John.

And having feelings for anyone now would only make him soft.

"No, I won't be coming, Lisbon. I plan to stay warm and snuggled here in my bed," he responded, "you do realize it's 3 am, don't you?"

"What's your point?"

"My Citroen isn't fully awake yet," he told her, referring to his car.

Lisbon's heart dropped slightly at the thought he wouldn't be accompanying her and she hated that she felt that way. Yet, why should she care if Jane was by her side as she investigates? She's certainly solved enough cases without him! Besides, if anything, he was a distraction with his unpredictable, annoying ways.

"That's fine..." she told him, "I'll handle the crime scene myself."

Her response wasn't what he expected. He had thought she would've been more resistant to his staying behind.

Perhaps it was for the best.

"Fine, Lisbon. Handle it yourself."

"Fine," she echoed back.

Lisbon took a deep breath and couldn't believe she was giving it one more try.

"If you don't want to investigate, I totally understand, Jane," she said stiffly, "but just know that the CBI could really use your expertise. And I know I would definitely appreciate it."

She had rushed the last part, and then she held her breath.

He should have just hung up.

But how could he say no after that?

"I certainly wouldn't want to let anyone down, especially the CBI. Give me time to freshen up," he said at last.

Lisbon momentarily shut her eyes, relieved and happy.

"_Fine__,_" she said again, but this time she meant it.

"I'll see you in about 20 minutes, Lisbon."

"Make that fifteen, Jane," she stated brusquely.

She immediately hung up before he could change his mind.

And they were each smiling into their respective phones.

.

Half an hour later Jane was dressed and hurrying towards the police line, where officers were holding back distraught neighbors who came to see Bellini's house burn to the ground. The scent of smoke was still heavy in the air. He immediately spotted Lisbon and he felt his insides tighten at the sight of her.

Golden shards of light from the roaring flames played over her tired face as she glanced up at him. She looked vulnerable with her dark hair tumbling around her in waves and curls. Wearing a coat over jeans and a loose sweatshirt, it was obvious she threw on the first items she spotted, yet, there was something inviting about her that lifted his mood considerably.

"Lisbon," he greeted her.

She turned to view him.

His expression was impassive as granite, due to the circumstances, but behind the stolid facade, Lisbon knew there laid boundless intellect and strength.

"Jane," she said, her heart thumping in uneven beats. She then forced herself to concentrate on the situation on hand, "as you can see, we're too late," she gestured over at the burnt residence.

They could do nothing as they watched firefighters putting out the last of the towering blaze. Not much would be recovered afterwards from the house; only ashes would remain.

All that was left of the victim was scorched earth, both literally and figuratively.

"What would be the purpose of burning down a dead victim's house?" she wondered as they viewed the fiery destruction, "do you think the killer did it to destroy all evidence that Marco Bellini ever existed, or did he do it in order to hide some evidence?"

"I can sum it up all in one word," Jane simply told her.

Lisbon was more than curious,"What's that?"

_"Revenge."_

"Oh, so you think Bellini wronged the killer somehow and therefore the killer is now seeking revenge for that?"

"No." Jane said.

Lisbon was confused, "No?"

He looked around.

"Sounds like an echo here," he commented.

She looked at him, exasperated. But in some ways, she was glad that he annoyed her. It's what kept her from thinking about Jane in any other sense except for as a means to solve a case.

"Okay, Jane, tell me more about this revenge thing," she said.

"The revenge is on us."

Lisbon looked surprised. She hadn't expected that answer at all.

"_Us?_ " Lisbon looked confused, "How does he even know about us?"

"I haven't figured that out that part yet," Jane said, throwing out some theories, "maybe he has someone watching us or perhaps he's been spying on us, himself," he looked around at the few scattered neighbors who had gathered here to view the fire, "for all we know, he could be here right now."

Lisbon pulled the collar of her coat higher as she looked suspiciously over at the crowd.

"Even if he knows we're investigating," she speculated, "why would he be trying to get to us?"

"Whoever this killer is, he is a very complicated individual," Jane theorized, "he probably had the killing all planned out and then planned to disappear until we became involved. Remember, we were the only ones not fooled by Marco's drowning as an accident. That's bound to set off a maniacal type of person, who is meticulous about his plans. We were the reason why the investigation is opened. So this is his way of showingus that he's not going to sit back and let us come after him."

"So it's personal for him," Lisbon speculated, "And this burning of the Bellini's house was a warning for us to back off."

"Could be," Jane acknowledged, "or at the very least, the killer is letting us know he's going to make things as difficult as possible for us."

"Well, if that is what his goal is, he's succeeded in _that,"_ Lisbon said, "it seems that we keep hitting one wall after another. But what _he_ doesn't know is that we won't give up!"

Jane tilted his head with a slight smile, causing her pulse to skip a beat. Lisbon couldn't help thinking how attractive he looked when he was pleased with her.

"Very good, Lisbon," he mentally applauded her, "I like it when we're on the same wavelength."

The minute the words escaped his lips, they exchanged unsure looks.

Although they were both intent on solving the crime, being on the same wavelength with one another is exactly what they both _didn't_ want to happen.

.

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_Please review_


	7. Chapter 7

The Puzzle

Chapter 7

_Wylon Merton liked setting fires._

_It was one way to kill people without having to do it face to face._

_Unlike people who usually started fires for insurance money purposes or to cover up crimes, Merton did it because he liked feeling in control. Goosebumps run down his spine at the possibility of knowing he held someone's devastation in his hands._

_In other words, it was a turn -on for him._

_Due to his ingenious method for starting the fire, firefighters were always baffled by the cause of it. More than likely they eventually deemed the cause 'unknown' or 'inconclusive'. That was because Merton was very careful to not leave any fingerprints or other incriminating evidence behind._

_But now a wrench was thrown in the pile._

_All because of Lisbon and Jane._

_Little did they know, however, that they would be the cause of more killings, Merton sneered._

_._

Lisbon always considered herself professional in all aspects of her life. She didn't get to be a top CBI agent by acting like a lovesick teenager. But at times she felt she was acting that way with Patrick Jane. At times she hated his charm, his sense of humor, his attractiveness.

And yet those were the things that drew him to her.

Sitting at her desk, she groaned at the memory of how she had acted with him when checking out Marco Bellini's bedroom. How she bounced on Marco's mattress enticingly and then invited Jane to do the same. She told herself she had acted very silly, but if given the chance, she would have done it all over again. It was fun...and even sensual.

But why with Patrick? Not _Patrick _-don't address him by his first name.

It's _Jane_. _JANE_.

Jane, with the tousled _just-tumbled-out-of-bed_ hair. Jane, with his boyish outlook on the world. And of course, Jane, with his winning smile. STOP IT.

But still...for a space of a moment she longed to look at him like a woman looks at a man, instead of viewing him as she often did: as a thorn in her side.

_R-r-ring!_

Good. A distraction.

She picked up the phone and automatically said, "Lisbon."

"Hey Lisbon, where are you?"

She'd know Jane's voice anywhere.

"Where am I?" Her forehead furrowed, "I'm in my office. Where else should I be?"

"You're late. The bank?" he reminded her, "You told me you would meet me at Bellini's bank late morning at 11."

_Oh hell._

Lisbon eyes widened at the realization. He's right. She looked at her watch. Here she was daydreaming about him when in reality, she was _working_ with him.

She noisily began shuffling some papers about.

"Sorry," she apologized, above the noise of the crinkling papers, "I've been really bogged down in paperwork here. I'll be right over."

.

When Lisbon at last arrived at the bank, the manager, Alvin Henderson, and Jane were there, waiting for her. Henderson held Marco Bellini's file in his hands. Introductions were made all around. He obviously did not appreciate the fact that Lisbon was late.

"You must realize, Agent Lisbon, that, as a bank manager, I have other matters to attend to besides waiting for the CBI to make a grand entrance," Henderson brusquely said. Fortunately for Lisbon, she was used to dealing with entitled office managers.

"I apologize for being late, Mr. Henderson, so I will get right to the point," she pulled out some folded papers, "I have a court order allowing us to see all of Marco Bellini's bank records, including contents in his safe-deposit box."

Henderson was all business.

"Alright, if you two will follow me, then," he stiffly them.

Henderson took them inside the safe deposit room and then left them alone.

Inside Marco Bellini's safe deposit box, they found the usual papers: mortgage documents, deeds and insurance policies, as well as $50,000 in cash and half a dozen passports for Marco under a half a dozen different names and nationalities.

Strangely, at the bottom of the safe deposit box was a lone bookmark. Lisbon reached in and removed it.

She stared at the artwork of the bookmark. The frontside displayed a picture of the _Mona Lisa_, the famous painting by Leonardo da Vinci. That was it, except at the very bottom, in small italics, was the company that printed the bookmark, _Line Imaging. _

She pondered why a simple bookmark was left with all the important papers.

"Jane, take a look at this."

He had been looking at the other contents of the safe deposit box but stopped to lean over.

"Ah, yeeesssss! The woman with the most enigmatic smile in the world!" Jane enthused at the recognition of the picture, "the painting of Mona Lisa is arguably the best known and most cherished work in all of the art world."

"So what 's it doing among Bellini's paperwork?" Lisbon pondered.

She then flipped it over and the mystery only heightened.

On the other side, handwritten with a black felt pen, was the following:

**_Shrapnel Vest Too_**

**_Scam Lost Inn_**

**_see Tom Lang_**

Lisbon read the words three times to herself, but nothing made sense.

"I don't get it," she commented.

"Of course you don't," Jane said.

"Why? Do the words mean anything to you?" she asked, hoping he would once again surprise her with his cleverness.

"Of course not, the words are as mysterious as Mona Lisa's smile..." he said, "and I think that's the point. It's in code. And I have a feeling it's a very important code. Might even help explain why Bellini was murdered."

"Oh, great," Lisbon said sarcastically," so in order to solve a murder, we need to solve an undecipherable code first."

Jane was about to comment when he heard noise from the outside of the room. He put his index finger in front of his mouth, like a 'shush' sound.

His voice was low as he explained, "_Someone's coming._ Better _idehay icklyquay_ the bookmark."

Lisbon didn't understand.

"What?" she asked, a furrow on her brow.

He looked at her as though she was the only person in the world who didn't know Pig Latin.

"_Hide it quickly!_" Jane translated in a fast whisper as he pointed to the bookmark.

_Oh._

Shoving the bookmark in the inside pocket of her jacket, Lisbon then began putting the other papers back in the safe deposit box when Alvin Henderson, the bank manager walked back in.

"Are you done looking through the papers, Agent Lisbon?" Henderson asked impatiently.

"I do have a few questions to ask you, Mr. Henderson, if you don't mind," her tone sounded more like a command.

He thinned his lips, "I really have a full schedule today."

Lisbon overlooked his rudeness as she made her point for him to cooperate, "We could talk _here_, or downtown. It's your call."

He gave a frustrated groan, "What is it you want to know?" he asked, disinterest in his tone.

"What was your impression of Marco Bellini?" she asked.

Henderson shrugged, "As far as I know, Mr. Bellini was a dependable, hardworking accountant who he started out with nothing and rose to become a pillar of the community."

"A _pillar_?" Jane repeated, "I've always had a different meaning for that word... so in your world, what does it take to become a pillar?"

Henderson had a frown and chose to ignore Jane as he looked at Lisbon, "Anything else, Agent Lisbon?"

"As far as you know, did Mr. Bellini have any nefarious dealings?" she asked.

"No," Henderson answered succinctly, " Mr. Bellini was a valued customer who took an interest in the community. He gave money to charities, donated services, promoted small businesses and was a member in good standing of the Chamber of Commerce."

"So he basically _bought_ his way through the community," Jane surmised.

Henderson showed his dislike of Jane on his face.

"That's not what I'm saying at all!" the bank manager claimed.

"Truthfully, Mr. Henderson," Lisbon stated, "I don't believe the salary of an accountant is enough to make him rich, so how could he afford to be so generous with his money?"

"He had investments."

"_Really,_" Lisbon said, sounding intrigued, "and what do you know about these investments?"

Henderson scowled.

"If you want to know more about _that_, you need to take that up with _his_ accountant!" he blustered, "I am _quite_ done discussing Mr. Bellini's character!"

"Don't you mean _characters, _Mr. Henderson_?_" Jane held up a number of the passports he had found in the safe deposit box, "according to the half-dozen passports he possessed, he had plenty of _that!"_

Henderson looked extremely annoyed at Jane and had the same expression when he faced Lisbon.

"I don't appreciate being interrogated like this, Agent Lisbon!" he snapped., "I believe our business is complete!"

Although Jane was antagonizing Henderson, Lisbon had to admit that the bank manager was a jerk.

"Mr. Henderson, we're not done talking yet until **_I, _**as an agent for the CBI,_ say_ it's over," Lisbon informed him.

Henderson had to force himself not to roll his eyes, "You'll have two more minutes of my time."

"Fine," she nodded, quickly responding before Jane could say anything, "Was there any evidence of Mr. Bellini moving his funds around?"

Henderson checked the file in his hand, "The account shows that for the first year or so, Mr. Bellini received regular transfers of roughly five thousand dollars every month."

Jane gave a low whistle to which Henderson gave him a look of disdain.

"From where?" she asked diverting Henderson's attention to her.

He shrugged, "Various local banks, plus one particular bank abroad."

"Don't tell me," Jane said, "the one bank abroad wouldn't _happen_ to be in the Cayman Islands, would it?"

Henderson gave a reluctant, "Yes."

Lisbon inquired, "And as a bank manager, that didn't raise any alarm bells with you?"

"Agent Lisbon," he spoke slowly as if Lisbon were a child, "if I became alarmed every time we received a transfer from a Cayman Islands, I wouldn't have time to do anything else! Besides it's not uncommon for people with money to deposit money there to avoid excessive taxation."

"So, as a bank manager, you don't make sure things are on the up and up when huge deposits are made or withdrawn?" she questioned.

"I don't know anything about his previous business endeavors beyond the fact that no red flags showed up when we checked his credit." he stood firm.

He then looked at his watch a third time, "and I believe our two minutes are up. Please be sure to note in your records that I have been most cooperative."

"Wait," Jane interrupted, "I have just one question for you, Mr. Henderson."

Henderson looked beyond irritated, even before hearing the question, "I can't guarantee that I will answer it."

Jane ignored Henderson's hostility, "Have you ever done business with anyone named Tom Lang?" he asked, referring to the name on the bookmark.

Henderson answered immediately, "No."

"So you've never heard of _Tom Lang_...he may have been a seller of protective vests?" Jane eyed the bank manager carefully.

"That's _two_ questions," Mr. Henderson responded and didn't answer, "and I told you that I have never heard of this Lang character, so your other question sounds ridiculous!"

Jane gave Lisbon a look which told her that Henderson didn't know anything more.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Henderson," Lisbon said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her tone. She pretended to be leaving, but instead she turned back around, "Oh, and I'll be taking that file on Marco Bellini that you have there," she told him.

Henderson scowled as he held the file tighter, "You'll need a court order for that."

Lisbon produced a paper from her pocket and unfolded it, "I'm sure you see that everything is in order, Mr. Henderson" she told him.

He grabbed the paper and read it with disgust. Meanwhile, Jane smiled brightly at Lisbon for thinking ahead. She was one remarkable woman.

Later, Lisbon and Jane felt good as they left the bank into the bright sunshine.

"Well," Lisbon said, as they walked to the car "I would say we were quite successful-in fact, maybe too much. I feel overwhelmed by all these new facts and we haven't even delved in detail into Bellini's financial records yet."

"That sounds right down your alley, Lisbon," Jane told her, "but for me, looking through paperwork bores me. So we'll just go our separate ways here."

Lisbon didn't know what was wrong with her. She usually loved working on her own. A partner usually got in the way of her plans. Until now. She took a deep breath.

"_How about some coffee, Jane?"_ she asked as she let the last of her breath out.

.

.

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_(A/N: Yes, now there is a secret code for you to solve, alongside Lisbon and Jane! As the chapters go on with more clues and you think you've solved it, please PM me as to not spoil it for other readers!)_

_Please review_


	8. Chapter 8

The Puzzle

Chapter 8

Lisbon felt her cheeks burning after asking Jane for coffee. Why did she do that? Maybe it was because she felt they shared a 'moment' back at Bellini's bedroom. But she had already convinced herself that Jane was definitely not her type.

After all, she lived for rules and boundaries and he lacked them.

But too late to take back her invitation for coffee. It lingered in the air, waiting for a response. And strangely, Jane looked unsure as to how to respond.

At last he spoke out, "Not this time, Lisbon."

"Oh," Lisbon said, biting her lip and trying to cover up her disappointment, "Sure. Never mind. I'm sure you have other things you need to do."

"Yes I do," he said, seemingly fighting a smile, "However if you're _insisting_..."

"No, oh, no," Lisbon seemed to be fumbling with her words, "Really, Jane, that's fine. Perfectly fine," she said, relieved that he turned it down, yet still wishing he hadn't, "I don't feel like coffee now, anyway."

As if her stress level wasn't high enough, what was she thinking, wanting to socialize with him?

He continued to stare at her.

"I never do, either, Lisbon, for I drink _tea,_" he lightly suggested, "and sharing it will make it an even more enjoyable experience. Do they serve tea at this exceptional place you have in mind?"

He looked so sincere. Lisbon couldn't help it. She smiled.

"I really didn't have a place in mind," she admitted, "truthfully, the invitation was a spur of the moment idea."

When he tilted his head, Lisbon couldn't help thinking that it made him look utterly attractive.

"Well, then, don't ask a person for tea unless you have a place in mind," he suggested.

The words punctured Lisbon's buoyant mood, which didn't surprise her, being that this was Jane.

"You're right," Lisbon said brusquely, "and for the record, do you realize that talking to you is _such_ hard work for me?"

"Yes, I _do_ know that," he smiled, "but the pay-off is so well worth it."

_Forget it! Smug, smug, SMUG! Lisbon internalized._

"Never mind, Jane," she said, "I think I'll just have some coffee alone in my office, so if you'll excuse me..."

For once, Jane's confident expression fell as he watched Lisbon walk out of the bank.

He quickly followed her outside the glass door and soon caught up with her. Her stride was fast and determined as she ignored Jane , who continued to walk alongside to her. She tried to force herself to enjoy the beautiful day, but she found Jane too disconcerting.

He tried to defend himself, "Lisbon, I was only kidding!"

Lisbon refused to look at him, as she strode forward, "That's the worst apology for rudeness ever!"

He tried to put on a sincere face.

"You're right," he said gallantly, "but it's my own way of accepting your kind invitation. Lisbon, I would love to have tea with you."

Flushed, she stopped walking. A part of her softened at his words, but she would not let him know that.

"You know, Jane, I had a moment of weakness when I asked you, "she told him, "...but LOOK!" she announced sarcastically, "that moment has passed! Weakness gone! Sensibility has settled in once again! Good bye Jane."

At least her pride was intact.

She continued walking again.

Naturally he stayed by her side.

"It's still early," he noted, "If we shared tea together, we'll be able to discuss the case more, maybe even break the code together."

Okay, she had to admit, that sounded tempting, but she continued on her way.

Do you mind?" she said, her strides becoming faster and stronger, "I want to be alone."

"You've made that quite clear," he said casually, "but you're walking the wrong way."

Immediately she halted her steps, "What?"

"Your car," he said, pointing the other way, "it's in the parking garage in the opposite direction."

"Oh."

Lisbon couldn't believe it. Whenever she was with Jane, she became discombobulated. She never knew _which _way she was headed. Well, she wasn't going to show him the effect he had on her. She continued walking in the same direction she had been going.

"It's a lovely day, I've decided to walk to work," she said, as an excuse, "after all, it's only a couple of blocks down from here."

She assumed he would accompany her the entire way.

So she was surprised when he didn't.

"Alright, see you later, then, Lisbon."

He had halted his steps and Lisbon found herself walking alone.

But, then... wasn't that what she wanted?

Lifting her head higher, she never looked back as she continued on her way.

.

She arrived at her office, a little out of breath from her walk, Throwing the bank folder on the desk she plopped down on her chair. She didn't know if she should feel angry, aggravated, or disappointed.

Mere moments later, she saw two Styrofoam cups of tea placed in front of her.

"Wha-" she began, as Jane took a seat in the visitor's chair after putting the cups down. He had evidently picked up the drinks from the local coffeehouse and driven back to work.

"Maybe your moment of weakness never passed because you needed something to drink," he analyzed, as he gestured to the teas, "at least that's what I'm hoping for. And also, Teresa, that you'll accept my apology for being such a jerk."

Teresa.

He called her _Teresa._

Whenever he called her by her first name, it always sounded...so intimate.

Her resolve to stay upset began to melt.

"Well...thank you," she stated, remembering her manners as she grabbed her cup.

And she could have sworn she heard a relieved breath from him.

.

The chamomile tea was perfectly brewed.

And they were now working as a team once again.

She was now typing the coded phrases from the bookmark into her computer:

_**Shrapnel Vest too**_

_**Scam Lost Inn**_

_**see Tom Lang**_

As she continued typing, a strand of her hair fell forward and Jane longed to touch its silkiness as he brushed it from her face. Watching her closely now, he was thinking how much he enjoyed her company.

"Did you notice the first line said 'too' as in also?" Lisbon pointed out to Jane, "Maybe this is only part of a list. Maybe this Tom Lang sells shrapnel vests. Or he's a scam artist. Maybe at a place called Lost Inn. What do you think?"

Jane shrugged, "Maybe there's too many 'maybes'. Or maybe not."

"Well that's a lot of help!" she said sarcastically, still staring at the words.

"Be patient, Lisbon," Jane said, "let the answer come to you."

He sounded like the Dalai Lama of words. But Lisbon wasn't willing to sit and do nothing.

"Perhaps the words needs to be rearranged," she thought out loud.

After thinking a bit, she began to type: _**See,Tom Lang lost shrapnel vest in scam, too.**_

She looked proudly at her results.

"What do you think?" she asked him.

Jane studied her sentence.

"I think that if this is correct, then Bellini has spelling problems." Jane said, as he pointed to Lisbon's use of _'in'_ instead of _'inn'_.

Not the reaction she expected.

"Okay, then _you_ do something with the code," she challenged.

"Maybe I will," he said as he studied the words.

He picked up a pad of paper and began scribbling.

"What are you doing?" Lisbon asked, straining her neck to see what he was doing.

"Thinking of anagrams," Jane said, as he showed her what he did with the first group of words and spoke the phrases out loud:

_Shrapnel Vests too_

_Heaven lot sport_

_Leaves North Post_

_Slasher vento top_

Lisbon looked surprised.

"_Wait,_" she questioned, "how were you able to rearrange those letters so quickly?"

"I'm very good at _Wheel of Fortune_, " he told her.

"The TV show?" Lisbon's voice went an octave higher, "Since when do you watch TV?"

"The show has been on for 40 years, Lisbon," Jane stated calmly, "Sooner or later, I'm bound to see at least thirty seconds of it. That's all you need to see to understand the rules of the letter game."

_He always had a smart-alecky answer for everything._

"Even so, getting back to this case," Lisbon said, "none of those anagrams make sense. At least it doesn't to me. Although, I have to admit, the spell out of word 'slasher' is rather creepy."

She then ignored Jane and began furiously typing.

"What are you typing now?" Jane asked.

"I'm looking up the records for all the _Tom Langs, i_n the nearby area," she told him, "and then see if there's any connection to _slasher_."

She finished typing and pressed the button.

"oh, damm!" Lisbon said, sounding exasperated at her screen.

"What is it?" Jane asked.

"There are over a dozen Tom Langs in the Sacramento area alone!" she complained, " And when I crossed -checked his name with _slasher_, I get..._nothing. It says 'no results'_. So evidently, all the men named Tom Lang were law abiding citizens, minus two of them having had DUI's. "

"DUIs are not exactly the crimes of a murderer," Jane said.

"Nevertheless, I'll have Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt look into this, " she said, before admitting, "in the meantime, I'm still impressed at your anagram solving skills."

He smiled at her compliment.

With her seated and him seated across from her, he leaned in to get a better look at the screen. He was very aware as to how close he was to her. Her feminine scent was so familiar to him need only move his head slightly and they would be close enough to...

Forget it, he told himself.

Finding Red John was his ultimate goal.

So instead he forced himself to focus on solving the code.

"Any ideas?" Lisbon burst into his thoughts.

Jane purposely needed to create some distance between them as he leaned all the way back in his chair.

"I wish I had something," he sounded discouraged, "I'm at a lost."

"The sensible thing to do," Lisbon reasoned, "is to stop throwing out these wild guesses. It's just wasting valuable time. Maybe we should go back to the basics and discuss the things we DO know about the case. You know, bounce ideas with one another and hope a brilliant idea bounces back to us!"

"Okay," Jane was game, "We'll go back to the beginning. We know Marco Bellini was in hiding with a new face and a new identity."

"Yes," Lisbon reasoned, "And he had enough money to sock some of it away at the Cayman Islands without raising any suspicions," she added, " and unlike most crooks, Marco was smart enough to not be greedy in order to avoid detection. Instead of spending his money frivolously and all at once, he invested or leveraged the money, replacing the cash with assets, little by little over time."

"True," said Jane, "he was smart, _but_ he was also scared."

Lisbon had a puzzled scowled on her face, "Scared? Why would you say he was scared?" she wondered.

"The fake passports and cash he kept in his safe-deposit box," Jane explained, "it was like he was ready to run away at a second's notice. Which is really quite strange considering he had paid his taxes, established credit, worked fulltime and was a pillar of the community. In theory, his money and career were clean. He had no reason to think he may suddenly be forced to suddenly leave without notice. But all the passports tell me that he _did _feel that way."

Lisbon hadn't thought of that, but it was a very good point.

"So what was Marco Bellini running from?" Lisbon asked, "and w_hom_ was he running from?"

"I don't know, but whoever this killer is," Jane said, "he is a professional."

"But so are we," responded a very determined Lisbon.

.

_Wylon Merton chuckled to himself at Lisbon's last ludicrous words._

_For a professional, she sure was unaware._

_He now had access to Lisbon's work computer since he had opened her home computer and had installed a chip in it. It had been easy for him to connect it to her work computer and to capture each keystroke whenever she was on-line; even in real time. He had then used another piece of electronic wizardry to clone her cell phone so he could eavesdrop on their calls at will, or record them to his computer for playback._

_He'd also been able to plant a satellite tracking device on Lisbon's car when it had been parked at the bank's parking lot. He would now be able to pinpoint her and Jane's whereabouts anytime and relay it to his wireless handset._

_He now knew everything they did._

_Yet for all his clever ways, the Mona Lisa bookmark coded words stumped him as much as they did Lisbon and Jane._

_In all his research on Bellini's life, the name Tom Lang never came up. Bellini obviously had hidden some important information in the coded message. It could even be a clue as to the location of other three people Merton was trying to find._

_Maybe this Tom Lang was the key._

_Letting his mind wander a bit, Merton now considered Lisbon and Jane. They seemed to have something more than a working relationship. but less than an intimate one. Not that he was a romanticist; it was quite the opposite, in fact. Romantic love was for weak minds. Personally, he could care less how they felt about one another._

_But it might be something that would serve a purpose for him later._

_In the meantime, he would keep close tabs on them. Let them figure out the coded message. And after they did, then he would disposed of them. And if this Tom Lang ever existed, he would die, too._

_The future looked good, he thought._

_._

_._

_Please review_


	9. Chapter 9

Explanations

Chapter 9

This was one of the nights Jane had decided to sleep on the sofa at the CBI. His mind had been working overtime trying to decipher the coded words, thus making it difficult for him to relax and sleep.

Instead he fell into a fog of strange images.

_He was running, hurrying through a series of long hallways, being chased by a faceless stranger. Jane tried several doors, but they were all locked. He just had to keep running and running, but the mysterious entity seemed to be closing the gap. And just as two cold hands were about to reach out and grab him, Jane tried the last door. It opened and he burst in and then slammed the door. _

_And Jane found himself unexpectedly in Lisbon's office._

_Breathing heavily from the chase, he felt safe at last, until the sight of her made him stop in his tracks._

_Lisbon sat behind her desk, studying an opened file. Unaware of his presence, she continued her reading. She was wearing her usual black pantsuit uniform, except the contrasting white button shirt seemed to be short a top button, creating a deep 'v' in the front. Golden streams of light from the opened window played over her glistening hair and vulnerable face as she glanced up._

_And her eyes collided with his._

_It became even harder for him to catch his breath at the sight of her alluring eyes and rose-tinted mouth._

_"Jane," she said, giving him a hesitant welcome. Her smile was so lovely and warm that it pulled something deep in his chest, "What are you doing here?"_

_His head was filled with optimism; one, because he was no longer being chased, and two, he was alone with Lisbon._

_He walked slowly towards her, "I've been trying to outrun my demon."_

_"Oh?" Lisbon lifted one eyebrow, "And were you successful?"_

_"Yes, and I've come to a realization, Teresa."_

_A glint of surprise showed in her eyes as two bright spots appeared on her cheeks. She knew this was something personal. __She stood up and came around the desk to come face to face with him. Though feminine and petite, her boundless energy and sheer presence seemed to fill the entire room._

_He was unable to look away at her riveting eyes._

_"So, tell me what that is," she said, sounding more like a request than a demand._

_It was difficult for him. He exhaled deeply._

_"It's just that this past year...I've been emotionally running...running away...from life."_

_She looked confused._

_"Oh-kay, so what does this have to do with me?"_

_He berated himself for being so vague with his words. Why doesn't he just tell her what needed to be said? He's certainly thought about it enough. __He swallowed hard as she looked questionably at him._

_"But I wasn't running away...instead, I was running towards something," his eyes looked so clear now, "I was running towards you, Teresa," he admitted, " because...I'm in love with you."_

_It had been actually easier to say than he had thought. And when he did, he felt he could breathe again, too. His gaze swept over her face, looking for a reaction. As he waited, he felt his own heart pounding frantically in his chest._

_Lisbon turned away flustered. Then she returned his gaze with a direct one of her own._

_"I'm in love with you back."_

_Jane was rarely one to be caught surprised, but this time he was._

_And it caused knots of excitement and pleasure to tighten inside of him__._

_Wordlessly, he moved closer to her, and slid one arm around her small waist to steady them both. Lisbon could barely breathe as she gave him a responsive shiver. _

_It was all the answer he needed._

_Jane pulled her against him and lowered his mouth to hers._

_His mouth moved over hers in supple, intimate angles until he found the perfect alignment that made her weak all over. Her body felt warm and smelled so sweet as she threw her arms around the back of his neck and molded herself to him. His hands moved up and down her back slowly, pressing her even tighter against his chest._

_He loved the feel of her mouth, the lingering touch of her hands. Breathing deeply he continued to twist his mouth over hers in long, searching kisses, pulling her in to allow no space between them, when suddenly..."_

_PLOP!_

_The dream evaporated as he landed with a thud and felt the hardness of the floor on his backside __._Groaning_,_ he opened his eyes and realized he had fallen off the sofa. It was very early in the morning and obviously he had been here on the sofa for most of the night.

He needed to get ready for another day before the other agents came in. With that thought in mind, he picked himself up from the floor and gathered the blanket that had fallen alongside him, the one that had previously been covering him. As he folded the blanket, he paused.

Blanket?

_Where had the blanket come from?_

.

Lisbon had managed to come in almost at the crack of dawn, anxious to get to work. She had made progress with the Bellini investigation, but still, it wasn't moving forward.

Last night she had given the FBI forensic anthropologist a photo and measurements of Marco Bellini's face. Just now she received an email back from them with the digital file of Bellini's facial reconstruction attached. She stared at the face, thinking it looked nothing like the Marco Bellini she and Jane had met at the restaurant the other day.

At the thought of Jane, she allowed her mind to wander a bit. He really was an enigma; annoying and smug on one hand while funny and charming, and brilliant on the other. She pretended not to notice that she had given more positive qualities to him than negative ones.

But, it wasn't as if anything would develop anyway. He was busy chasing Red John and she had a job. No...a _career_ that consumed her life. She was smart enough to know that Jane was using her to get information about Red John. She was mainly being used as a means to an end.

Yes, she needed to stop getting the warm fuzzies when she was with him. Once he solved the Red John case, he would be gone.

_Just don't leave without saying goodbye_, she wistfully internalized.

A commanding male voice from behind her interrupted her musings, "Any progress so far on the Bellini case, Agent Lisbon?"

Lisbon looked up to see Director Minelli standing above her desk. She blinked twice and then was able to quickly switch to the case.

"Yes, Sir. I've just received a generated image of Bellini's original face," she informed him, as she handed the photo over to Bellini, "I now plan to run the photos through our databases to see if it matches any cases with the FBI and also with the Sacramento Police force."

"Good work," Minelli told her, "and what are your plans this morning regarding waking Jane up?"

So she was not the only one who could instantly switch topics.

"Sir?" Lisbon pretended to look confused, although she wasn't.

When she had arrived this morning, she had seen Jane asleep on the couch. Knowing there was an old blanket in the stockroom, she had retrieved it and laid it over him. It was nice seeing him at peace with the world.

Minelli was going to answer, when Jane suddenly appeared at the doorway. And in his hand he held two Styrofoam cups of what she figured were filled with tea.

"I'm here, although slightly late," Jane said, as he sauntered into Lisbon office and put the cups down.

He looked bright and relaxed. It was the first time in months that he did not have insomnia.

"I hope you have a good excuse for your tardiness," Lisbon teased, liking that he had been kind in bringing her tea. She was beginning to prefer it over coffee.

"I do," Jane quipped, "I had been abducted by aliens. Then after being transported to the Mothership, the aliens decided NOT to suck out my brains, so they sent me back home. That took some time, but at least I made it back here."

The answer was so ridiculous. Minelli remained stoned-faced but it made Lisbon smile, her eyes sparkling.

He watched Lisbon and Jane exchange happy expressions.

_So it's like that_, Minelli thought.

.

Now alone in the office with Jane, Lisbon had updated him as to the previous identity of Marco Bellini.

"The plastic surgeon did a good job with him," Jane commented as he handed Lisbon the picture back.

"Well, now that we know what Marco Bellini originally looked like, we now also have his real name, too."

"I'm all ears," Jane told her as he sat down, "well, not _all_ ears.. not the part that is identified as my mouth. I need that for speaking."

Lisbon's mouth curved slightly as she took photo out of her file to show him. It looked like a passport or ID photo and it almost perfectly matched the computer-drawn image.

"His real name is Stefano Abelli," she told him, "he's a fugitive, wanted on kidnapping, extortion and murder charges."

Jane leaned forward to look at the photos, "go on."

"We believe Bellini -that is, to say, Stefano Abelli- was the point man in the kidnapping of 21-year-old Claire Havington seven years ago." Lisbon now shoved a picture of a lovely blonde-haired teenage girl in front of Jane, "The kidnappers were waiting for her at home when she came back from school. They ended up cutting off a tip of her right ear to leave for her father as evidence that they had abducted her."

"Her last name is _Havington?_" Jane wondered, "Where have I heard that name before?"

"Raymond Havington is her father."

"The casino owner?" Jane questioned.

The infamous Raymond Havington was owner of the Double Down Hotel and Casino, approximately 20 miles outside of Sacramento. He was noted as being one of ten of the richest men in the world. And he didn't achieve that from playing nice.

"Yes, " Lisbon continued, "Anyway, Havington later got a call from the kidnappers demanding 8 million dollars in cash in six hours or his daughter would be killed. He did as he was told and met them at the designated location. After the handover, they were to tell him where she was buried, which was in a wooden storage shed in Glen Woods."

Lisbon next slid another picture for Jane to view. It showed the teenage girl, curled in a corner of the wooden shed, her hands bound and right earlobe bandaged. She was obviously dead.

"Her father was too late," Lisbon sounded very clinical, although her eyes saddened, "His daughter didn't survive the captivity in the shed. The kidnappers had used a makeshift pipe for fresh air and given her bottled water, but this was in the middle of a hot, humid Sacrament summer. I don't think they meant for her to die...but it doesn't change the result."

Jane solemnly nodded, trying not to think about his daughter's last minutes of life, "They didn't take into account her terror. That fear would have increased her breathing, thus increasing her need for more oxygen. In turn it would have caused her to become more dehydrated, with moisture escaping quickly from her body with each terrifying breath."

The image was unbelievably morbid.

"The poor girl," Lisbon shook her head back and forth, "it must have been a horrible death."

Though Jane was not a multi-millionaire, he could relate to this Havington guy on one level. He knew what it was like to lose a daughter. It was like the joy and sunshine had been sucked from your life. He tried to force himself back on the case and then something Lisbon said hit him oddly.

"Wait..." he said, "you've used the word _'they_' several times in describing the kidnappers. So it wasn't just Stephano Abelli involved in this. There was more than one kidnapper."

Lisbon spread out a new array of photos.

"Meet the rest of the murderous crew," she announced, "Ralph Stevens, Maggie Linn and Cathy Lowell."

Jane burned each photo into his memory bank before he looked back up at her, "So the three other kidnappers are still at large?"

She nodded, "These three actually used to work for the rich casino owner Raymond Havington. Stevens was a casino supervisor and the two females were casino waitresses. They all disappeared the day of the kidnapping and haven't been heard from since."

"So we are to assume that just like Stephano Abelli, the three used part of the ransom money to have extensive plastic surgery done, and then later bought new identities," Jane concluded.

"That feels just about right," Lisbon agreed, " And I think that's why Abelli's, or rather Marco Bellini's, house was burnt down," she added, "the warning was not for us, but for the other three kidnappers."

For one of the few times in his life, Jane was wrong, but he sure wasn't going to point it out.

"So the killer isn't finished yet," Jane said, moving the conversation forward, "for some reason, he's after these kidnappers of Claire Havington."

"Seems to be. And there's more," Lisbon said.

Jane grimaced, "Why am I not surprised?"

"But you may _like_ this news," she lightly hinted.

Jane was alert.

"Oh? Well, I could certainly use some, besides the news of me working alongside you, of course."

Lisbon wasn't taking any of this to heart.

" Since when did you start being flirtatious?" she asked.

"I'm not a flirt, I'm an _optimist..._and I'm _positive_ about that," he jested.

She laughed.

_Oh god, Merton thought as he listened in, how __annoying__ these two can be._

_They are so nauseatingly adorable._

_It was almost reason enough to kill them right now._

_Merton disgustedly turned off the listening device, at least for a few minutes._

_His ears needed the rest._

_From his cheap motel room in the poorly kept residential area of Oak Park, Merton next focused his attention to the screen on his computer and stared at the facial reconstruction of Bellini on his laptop that Lisbon had downloaded onto her computer._

_This re-creation of Bellini was rather good, Merton thought. The picture showed a fuller, fleshier, more lived-in computer generated face of Bellini than Merton had remembered. The forensics department should be commended._

_He was also impressed with the progress that Lisbon and Jane seemed to be making. They were well on their way to breaking this case wide open, which in turn, will lead him to the other kidnappers._

_And Merton would be there, every murderous step of the way._

_._

_._

_._

_(A/N: Hey, this is season one, I had to find a way for Jane and Lisbon to get in some kind of smooching! *winks*_)

_Please review_


	10. Chapter 10

The Case Moves Forward

Chapter 10

_(Summary) Lisbon and Jane now knew that murdered victim Marco Bellini's real name was Stephano Abelli. And that he had left a coded message in a bookmark. Years earlier, Bellini/Abelli had kidnapped college student Claire Havington who eventually died. Claire's father, Raymond Havington, was a rich casino owner. Lisbon also discovered that there were three other kidnappers involved: Ralph Stevens, Maggie Linn and Cathy Lowell._

.

"So Bellini kidnapped and killed a rich girl," Jane said, as he and Lisbon sat in her office. When she acknowledged, he added, "and I assume that Bellini was also the leader of the group," he stated as fact.

Lisbon looked awed, "Yes, we believe so. But how did you know?"

"My gut feeling," Jane answered honestly, "and also the Mona Lisa bookmark with the coded words. Only a leader would have the main secrets written down somewhere. I believe that Bellini's secret bookmark will either reveal the location of some hidden cash or the location of the other kidnappers. I'm sure of it and as you know, I may not be always right, but I am _never_ wrong."

Lisbon half smiled at his truth.

"That's good to know," she said, "so here's the rest of the news I was going to tell you. We may have a small lead as to who may have killed Bellini."

Now it was Jane's turn to appear surprised.

"That was fast," Jane noted, "and you did it without my help."

"Don't look so incredulous, Jane," she said with disdain "you do realize that even before you became a consultant here, we've had a successful conviction rate?, don't you? In fact, the percentage of CBI cases we've closed was much higher than the FBI's."

Jane nonchalantly shrugged, "Those aren't exactly lofty standards."

Lisbon guffawed.

"Nevertheless," she said, "do you want to know the theory as to the identity of Bellini's killer or not?"

"Please," Jane said encouragingly, "Who is this hide and seek person?"

"Actually we don't have a name, it's just a lead," Lisbon informed him, "according to some people in the FBI, there has been a rumor about a certain shadowy killer."

"A r_umor?_" Jane furrowed his brow, "I've never been one to take rumors seriously. And they are the hardest to disprove, too."

"Normally I would agree with you," Lisbon told him, "but since this rumor came from reliable law enforcement officials, I'm more inclined to believe it."

"Okay, I'm game...go on," Jane said.

"Anyway, this particular man approaches wealthy families who've lost a loved one through violent circumstances in the hands of others and offers them closure."

That got Jane's attention.

"_Closure_," he repeated, "In what way? What kind of closure?"

Lisbon gave him a knowing look, "I think it's obvious."

"You mean an eye for an eye," Jane supposed.

Lisbon nodded, "Precisely. But when we question the wealthy families, no one will admit to hiring a mystery killer. But, then, of course they wouldn't. And if we have no cooperation and no evidence, we have no killer. So what's left is a rumor with a trail of unsolved murders."

"It sounds so incredible that it's probably true," Jane reasoned, "so basically, the killer offers the victim's family vengeance for a hefty price. And then he disappears."

"Yes, he uses his own form of justice, howbeit, a murderous one," Lisbon continued, "so my theory is that perhaps the father of kidnapped victim Claire Havington hired this man to kill Bellini and his gang as a form of revenge."

Jane's face was unreadable as they discussed the _hire-a-killer_ plan. Internally he was thinking that if these facts were true, he believed the plan for revenge was brilliant, because it served a purpose. It allowed the victim's family to finally sleep at night.

He should know.

"I see," he said, pausing before adding, "You know, Lisbon, perhaps we should back off a bit; let the killer complete his job. _Then_ arrest him. After all, he's just getting rid of some useless scum off the streets, anyway."

Lisbon gave Jane a hard stare. It was the first time the blues of his eyes didn't look playful or mischievous or all knowing. It looked...dark, devoid of emotion. She had read his file regarding the horrific deaths of his wife and young daughter. But now she saw first hand the effect the killing of his family had on him.

It not only affected him, it seemed to have change him.

"That's not how law enforcement works, Jane" Lisbon told him, "We don't get to pick and choose where we apply justice. I'm here to uphold the law. Stalking to kill is wrong. _Always_. So we need to find this killer before he strikes again."

"I still say it's a waste of good manpower," Jane said, and then giving Lisbon a second look added, "if bad people are slated to die, why should anyone, including us, get in their way?"

Even knowing Jane's past, Lisbon couldn't believe he was implying that the killer should be free to exact the revenge. She guessed she didn't know Jane at all.

"Evidently you and I are on polar sides of this issue, " she declared, a look of displeasure on her face, "but however you or I personally side on the matter, I'm going to find this killer and bring him in ," she sounded very determined," and if you don't want to be part of this case, I completely understand."

For some reason, she held her breath.

"Sometimes the answer is to do nothing; let things work out on their own," he softly asserted, knowing she wouldn't agree.

He was right.

"My first priority is to enforce the law," she told him, "and in order to do that, I have to prevent killings. It's that simple."

He looked expressionless at her, "I can understand that, but it doesn't mean it's my kind of justice."

Lisbon knew Jane was also searching for Red John, but after this discussion, she felt if he ever found Red John, he would not turn Red John over to authorities. She didn't want to think what the alternative would be. But never mind the Red John case. Right now, she needed to work on the case at hand.

"If you want to stay out of this, that's your decision, Jane," Lisbon said, again giving him a way out, "and maybe it's for the better. With an unknown professional assassin who is determined to kill, this one could be dangerous."

Jane's eyes flickered, "So what you're saying Lisbon, is that you would worry about my safety?"

Lisbon slightly blushed, as she folded her arms, "I would worry about _any_ person's safety, especially a civilian."

"So it's dangerous for me but not for you?" he tried to reason.

"Jane, I've got a badge and gun," she pointed out.

"But that doesn't make you bulletproof," he shot back.

Okay, she had to admit, maybe he had a point there.

"Nevertheless, you're still a civilian," she stubbornly told him, implying that maybe it was best he step away from this case.

"Lisbon" Jane leaned in her direction, "ever since this case started, I've been intrigued with solving Bellini's killing as much as you. And I have to admit, with the addition of those coded words, it wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. I haven't been this baffled since the Red John case, which I am also determine to close, but in my own time. This one, however, will not take as long to solve. I'm sure of it. We just need to know the significance of those words on that bookmark. And we _will_ decipher it, that I'm sure of. You need my help and I need to help solve it. You owe me that."

Lisbon viewed Jane intently. She knew that even with all of the CBI's resources, they wouldn't be able to get as far and as quickly without Jane's help. Like him, she had confidence that he would have the key in solving the puzzling words on the bookmarker.

"Alright, Jane, maybe you could come with me when I talk to casino owner Havington regarding the kidnappers," she said, "or should I say _'if'._ Right now I'm having difficulty in convincing Mr. Havington to even talk with me. I've already left two messages for him that the CBI would like to pay him a visit, just to chat. Even with the backing of the CBI, I haven't been able to get past the hotel magnate's impenetrable front line of assistants. The people on the other line either say he's booked up or not available. I can't even set up an appointment to tell him what we know."

"Really? Try calling him again," Jane suggested to her, "but this time, let _me_ leave the message."

"Why would Havington listen to you any better than an agent of the CBI?" she questioned, "He doesn't even know you."

Jane tried to look serious, but a bit of the sparkle appeared back in his eyes.

"Just dial and then hand the phone over to me."

Why does she ever doubt him? She picked up the phone and dialed the casino's number again. When someone answered, she handed the phone to Jane.

He waited until someone picked up.

"Hello, my name is Patrick Jane and I would like to leave a message with Raymond Havington," he began.

Lisbon could hear someone talking on the other line and finally Jane responded with, "What is this concerning? Tell him that I was there at _Stephano Abelli's_ death...Yes, that's right, _Abelli's_ death. That's A-B-E-L-L-I, Stephano...give your boss that message... I was there. Yes, I'll hold..."

Jane, with the phone in his ear, calmly whistled as he waited. He didn't have to wait very long.

"Oh really? So soon?" Jane said over the phone, " Yes... I think I will be able to see him tomorrow. Hold on, so I can write that down."

Lisbon looked miraculously at Jane as he grabbed a paper and pen off her desk. He was now taking down the time of his appointment with Raymond Havington.

"Yes...Just make sure I don't have to wait when I arrive there, I hate when that happens...oh? He said that? That is quite kind of him; I'll look forward to seeing him, too...good-bye, " Jane said, before he ended the call.

When he hung up, he had a look of satisfaction on his face.

"I hate when you do that," she said.

"What? When I'm clever and convincing at the same time?" he asked.

"No, when you breathe," she responded as she walked away from his smiling face.

.

_Wylon Merton could see that Lisbon and Jane were making progress._

_So now they knew who his employer was._

_But he wasn't alarmed. It might actually be a good thing. He was so used to working on his own, it was fun to engage others in his game of murder while still maintaining his anonymity. His other killings had been too easy. There was never a challenge._

_Until now._

_For not only was there a race to break the coded words, there was this little contest of wits._

_A game those two could not possibly win._

_Meanwhile, he too, was busy compiling a list of Tom Langs and doing full background checks on each of them. It was tedious work and frankly, not very interesting. Hunched over the laptop, Merton was bored with this task._

_He stopped his searching of Tom Lang. He'd let Lisbon and Jane find out who this person was. Then he'll use them to find the other kidnappers. And when it was all over, after he had accomplished what he was hired to do, they would both have to die._

_And Merton would be victorious._

_Again._

_._

_._

_._

_Please review_


	11. Chapter 11

An Important Meeting

Chapter 11

In the afternoon of the next day, Patrick Jane met up with Lisbon.

They planned to drive over to talk with Raymond Havington, the casino owner who allegedly had hired a professional killer to seek vengeance on Stephano Abelli. They needed to convince Havington to call in his hired killer before he strikes again.

.

It didn't take long for Lisbon and Jane to reach The Double Down Hotel and Casino. One couldn't miss the imposing five star building. The hotel featured a dazzling water fountain while opulent French furnishings greeted guests inside. Besides the exclusive Spa Club and over 50 international shopping boutiques, the spectacular casino inside offerd all table and slot games, a five-acre pool deck and the top French restaurant in the state. It was more than just a huge hotel and casino complex.

It was an urban vacation destination for adults.

Walking through the lobby, they were instantly greeted by Havington's right hand person. He was built like a refrigerator. Lisbon and Jane were surprised when Wise recognized them immediately without introductions.

"Good morning, Agent Lisbon, Mr. Jane -I am Gordon Wise, Mr. Havington's assistant, " he spoke in a very businesslike manner, "Please follow me."

They walked through the chandelier-laden lobby to a private elevator in a secluded hallway. Wise pressed his hand against a touch screen which lit up as it scanned his hand.

The doors opened and the three walked in and then the doors shut.

No one said anything. The elevator began to go up. As Jane looked around, he noted the tiny camera aimed at them as Wise stared straight ahead. There were narrow beams of laser lights were moving throughout the confined place causing him to move about uncomfortably as the elevator continued to ascend.

"I understand the need for cameras," Jane said, "but what's up with those laser beams?"

Wise continued to stare forward and for a second, both Lisbon and Jane thought he was going to ignore the question.

"We scan," Wise responded succinctly, "for weapons, electronic devices and biological agents."

"You have tighter security than the CBI," Lisbon remarked in jest.

Obviously Wise wasn't up to light bantering as he remained stoned face.

"It's necessary," he merely responded.

He didn't say anything more, as Jane and Lisbon awkwardly looked about.

The ride seemed to take forever. At last the elevator doors opened to a huge outer office with high ceilings. Three assistants were working on computers which sat on their modern, oval desks. Lisbon and Jane were next led to an enormous double doors that opened into Havington's office.

Raymond Havington was as tall and imposing as they imagined he would be. But unlike his assistant, he greeted them with a warm smile and then instructed them to sit in the buttery-soft leather seats opposite his large expensive desk.

Everyone sat down except for Gordon Wise, who stood next to the door like a guard.

"Thank you for taking the time to see us, Mr. Havington," Lisbon greeted him.

His smile became wider, "Had I known CBI agents were so attractive, I would have made it a point to see you earlier, Agent Lisbon."

"Do we really have time for that kind of talk?" Jane bluntly pointed out as Havington's compliment to Lisbon.

Even though Lisbon knew Havington wasn't being totally sincere with his compliment, she understood it for what it was; a way to casually open up a conversation. Fortunately Havington wasn't the type to get ruffled by Jane's usual rudeness.

"I am well aware that you are here on business, Mr. Jane, so you are right about skipping the chit-chat," Havington evenly said to Jane as he leaned back comfortably in his chair, "and if I'm not mistaken, I believe, Mr. Jane, that you'd mentioned something about Stephano Abelli. Something about his death? I was quite shocked and saddened to hear that. Many years ago, Mr. Abelli had worked for me. He had been a fine employee."

"I don't think you were neither shocked _nor_ sad to hear that," Jane announced as Lisbon tried to tell him with her eyes to let her deal with Havington.

Havington lifted one eyebrow in surrpise, "Why, Mr. Jane, in all honesty, I am slightly offended. Just what are you implying?"

"Perhaps I should explain," suggested Lisbon.

Havington acquiesced, "By all means."

"First off, my condolences regarding your daughter's tragic death," she sympathized.

Surprisingly, his face hardened. Havington's eyes darkened and his whole demeanor changed.

"Just get on with what you want to tell me," he said brusquely, his mood now showing impatience.

Lisbon could see that Havington was not a man to be pitied.

"Very well, Mr. Havington. Let me tell you what probably happened _after _the death of your daughter," she was sounding all businesslike, too, "a year or so after the kidnapping, when other CBI agents had stalled with the murder investigation, you were approached by some mysterious person who offered to find the kidnappers to make them pay. He probably told you that no one would know about this arrangement except you, and added that he was an expert in what he did, that he was relentless in the pursuit of his mission. You agreed to his terms; that after each successful completion of one of his 'missions', you were to wire a large sum of money to an offshore account somewhere."

Havington stared at Lisbon throughout her entire speech, expressionless.

"That's quite a story," was all he said.

"Tell me which part wasn't true," she challenged.

He considered her words and how he responded.

At last he leaned forward in his chair to make his point, his voice void of any emotions.

"Do you know what those murderous monsters did to my daughter, Agent Lisbon?" he questioned her, "They didn't just kill Claire; they terrorized and tortured her...even brutally cut off her earlobe, for Chrissakes! She died miserably and alone. And after her murder, my wife had a breakdown and was never the same. Our marriage disintegrated. So Claire was not the only person who died that day. My entire family did, including me. Nothing has meaning for me now; any joy I have in life is gone. The only reason I live now is for my money."

For once Jane managed to say the right thing.

"We're sorry to hear that, Mr. Havington," Jane stated respectfully, "and I assure you, we're not defending the killers or what they did."

Havington didn't look convinced, "Then what the hell are you two doing here?"

"It turns out we want the same thing you do, Mr. Havington," Lisbon said, "we want justice. The only difference is, we don't want any more killings."

Havington looked past her, "Then we're _not_ after the same thing."

"Call off your hired killer or at least give us a name," Lisbon said, encouragingly, "we need to know the identity of the person who is intent on going after the other three kidnappers."

Havington didn't even blink as he indirectly admitted to his involvement with a killer, "As far as I am concerned, Agent Lisbon, what he is doing is not wrong!"

"If anything happens to Ralph Stevens, Maggie Linn or Cathy Lowell," Lisbon warned, her voice low and threatening, "CBI will charge you with accessory to murder."

Havington didn't look concerned, as he watched them impassively.

"I am merely a successful businessman and I assure you that the authorities will never find anything to connect me to any deaths."

"Don't be so sure," Jane hinted.

Havington now stood up as he spoke to LIsbon and Jane, "I have my job to do and you have yours...so Mr. Wise will now see you out."

The meeting was over.

Havington's assistant seemed to appear in front of them out of nowhere. Lisbon and Jane could do nothing but also stand.

"If you are so interested in justice being done," Lisbon suggested, "give us whatever files you have on kidnappers Stevens, Linn and Lowell."

Havington seemed to be considering her suggestion. At least this meeting showed how much CBI knew about the case, although they were stalled as much as Merton. What would it hurt to get additional help? he thought. Merton had the original files, anyway. And the more people looking for those group of killers, the better. He turned to his assistant.

"Gordon, be sure to give Agent Lisbon any information we have on the kidnappers."

Gordon Wise pointed to the files in his arms, "I have them right here, Mr. Havington."

He was certainly efficient.

.

Wise escorted Lisbon and Jane back into the elevator and watched as they got into their vehicle and drove away. When he returned to Raymond Havington's office, Havington was standing, hands connected behind his back, staring out his window at the unobstructed view of the city.

Havington could feel Wise's presence even without turning around.

"Tomorrow I want you to wire the money to Merton's Swiss account for a job well done," Havington told his assistant, regarding the death of Stephano Abelli, "and when you do, be sure to add an additional ten percent bonus."

Wise nodded, "Consider it done."

Havington turned to view his faithful assistant. The two of them worked together like a well oiled machine and Havington could tell something was amiss by Wise's slightly downturned mouth.

"Something bothering you, Gordon?" Havington asked.

Wise shrugged, "The scanners in the elevators picked up something. The circuitry of Agent Lisbon's cell phone had been altered. I think somebody's planted a bug or tracking device in it."

Surprisingly, Havington expression was one of pleasure, as if he were expecting that. "Do you think Agent Lisbon is aware of it?"

"I doubt it," Wise remarked.

Havington allowed himself a small smile at that thought.

_Well done, Merton!_

_Looks like his hired killer is worth every single penny,_ Havington internalized, privately patting himself on the back for his wise decision. Obviously Merton is using Lisbon and Jane as unwitting accomplices to his deeds without their knowledge whatsoever.

_Truly this will be a challenge of brilliant minds._

"I've changed my mind about adding the ten percent bonus to Merton's account," Havington announced, "Make it twenty percent."

.

.

_(A/N: Okay, exposition of plot is out of the way...now on to investigating the case and breaking the code!)_

_Please review_


	12. Chapter 12

Figuring the Puzzle Out

Chapter 12

Lisbon sat at her desk at CBI headquarters and reviewed the files that Raymond Havington had given her on the other three kidnappers. She felt that if she combed through all the information enough, some little minute clue would stick out, something that would explain the coded message on that bookmark. She stared at the code on her computer monitor, as if the code would revealed itself if she'd only focus on it more:

_**Shrapnel Vest Too**_

_**Scam Lost Inn**_

_**see Tom Lang**_

Nowhere in the newly acquired files was there the name of Tom Lang, but that unknown person _must_ be important to this case; it was the only name Bellini/Abelli had mentioned. And yet, even with all the overload of information to decipher, Lisbon's mind still wandered away from the case.

Ever since Patrick Jane entered her life, it was as though her life suddenly took on a different spin. She'd wake up mornings and on the days she knew she would see him, she just _felt_ different. She felt lighter; happier. It was as if she were-

"Good morning, Lisbon."

_Jane_

She looked up from her desk and sure enough, Jane was standing in front of her, holding two covered teacups and saucers with tea bag tags sticking out of it. He looked his usual rumpled brown three piece suit. But yet, he always brought a smile to her heart.

_And she hated that she thought that._

"Jane, you're here bright and early," she greeted him, wanting to fill the air with words.

Jane smiled back, pleased that she hadn't shown displeasure at his presence, "Tea is great as a little pick me up," he informed her, placing the cups down as he took a seat.

She hid her half filled mug of lukewarm coffee behind a stack of papers.

"Thanks, I appreciate the effort. I could do with some energy this morning!"

Jane seemed mesmerized by her as he slowly took a sip. The blueness of his eyes was seen above the rim of his cup and it somehow made Lisbon's stomach do a somersault flip.

He placed his cup back on the saucer.

"I hope you realize that tea not only energizes you, it also increases the activation of the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex."

"Well, thank god for that," Lisbon kept a straight face, "I've been wanting to increase my dorsolateral prefrontal cortex for the longest time."

He looked amused and Lisbon knew she was enjoying his company more than she should.

"You _should _want to increase it, Lisbon," he said getting serious once more, "because that's the area of the brain associated with working memory, which you'll need for problem-solving and focus."

Lisbon took another sip, "So you're telling me all this to convince me that tea is better than coffee?"

"No," Jane said evenly, "coffee also has beneficial factors. It has been shown to improve various aspects of the brain function including memory, mood and general cognitive function."

"That's good to know," Lisbon said, as she brought the cup of tea up to her lips.

"...so you shouldn't feel bad about pretending to prefer tea over coffee," he stated matter-of-factly, "I know for a fact that you'd give your right arm this very minute if you could have a mug of coffee in your hands."

She had just begun to swallow the tea when he added the last part of his comment.

"Urgh..." she gurgled, choking on her drink. When she looked back at him, she had the appearance of a child caught with her hand in an opened cookie jar, "How did you-"

"-know?" he completed her sentence for her, "it was pretty obvious by the way you gave yearning, lingering looks at any co-worker walking about with a mug of coffee in his or her hand."

"Was I that obvious?" Lisbon asked, unaware she had been doing that.

Jane gave her an understanding expression.

"It's fine if you go back to drinking coffee, Lisbon," he assured her, "Celebrate your individuality. Go ahead and choose coffee over tea, much like 83% of the adult population in America."

Lisbon smiled, "I don't need your approval."

"You never do."

"Look who's talking, " she pointed out, then sounding as if she were making an introduction, "Pot, meet Kettle."

He smiled back.

Although Lisbon was relieved to be going back to drinking coffee, she felt disappointed that Jane wouldn't be making tea for her any longer.

"So," she asked, "...do you want to further discuss how tea is not _my_ cup of tea or do you want to discuss the case?"

A glint of amusement showed in his eyes.

"I choose to discuss the case," he responded back.

She agreed, "Then take a look at this..."

Lisbon swiveled the computer monitor around to show Jane the coded message once again:

_**Shrapnel Vest too**_

_**Scam Lost Inn**_

_**see Tom Lang**_

Frustration showed on Jane's face.

"Unfortunately these lines here have already been ingrained in my brain," he acknowledged, "I've tried all different manners of breaking the code until my head felt as though it might explode."

"Too bad," Lisbon ruefully stated, before correcting herself, "...not that it's too bad your head didn't explode. I was referring to you being stuck with ideas."

His arrested stare caused her to feel even more embarrassed.

"Nice catch," he diplomatically stated, before asking, "What about you? Any ideas?"

Lisbon sighed, "None, but I was in the middle of typing some notes this morning about each of the other kidnappers from the files Havington supplied us. It's still preliminary, but I'll show you what I have so far..."

She pushed another button and the screen flashed her notes:

**Maggie Linn, waitress**

Relatives: parents residing in Switzerland(?)

Hobbies: horse riding, reading

**Cathy Lowell, waitress**

Relatives: unknown

Hobbies: cooking, gardening

**Ralph Stevens, 2nd assistant to Raymond Havington**

Relatives: Clara Stevens, mother

Hobbies: traveling, skiing

"Hmmm," Jane studied the little information that Lisbon had gathered, "It says here that Ralph Stevens was very close to his mother. Any chance that he may have sent her any money or even have visited her?"

"Van Pelt is checking that out for me," Lisbon said, "but don't get your hopes up. I'm sure Havington had probably checked out that theory already, too. Looks doubtful that kidnapper Ralph Stevens would be stupid enough to contact his mother."

_Tsk! Tsk! Merton shook his head, 'You, my Dear, are __sooo __wrong about that...'_

_He was smiling with glee as he sat at his computer, listening through an earpiece that received transmissions from Lisbon's computer. He liked the idea that he could pick up their conversations from either her computer or cellphone._

_Merton knew for a fact that every year kidnapper Ralph Stevens sent his mother $8,000 in cash in a manila folder. Of course, it never got to her since Merton always intercepted it and pocketed the money for himself._

_Stevens must have thought he was being very clever, Merton concluded. The money was sent from a different major city each year: New York City, Orlando, Boston, Los Angeles. Seems Stevens would travel to those cities just to mail the envelope. But Merton was smarter. All he had to do was make sure that he was on the receiving end every time the mother's birthday came around._

_It worked like a charm._

R-r-r-ring!

The phone on Lisbon's desk was ringing.

She quickly picked it up.

"Agent Lisbon."

It was obvious that she was talking to Agent Van Pelt regarding the results of whether Stevens had been keeping in contact or sending money to his mother. And the news did not look good.

"So his mother never received any money at all? " Lisbon was saying to Van Pelt on the phone, "And you've also checked her bank records? _Nothing_?" Lisbon looked crestfallen as the conversation ended, "No, that's fine, thanks, Grace."

Lisbon hung up, a disappointed look on her face.

"We have nothing," she announced to Jane.

"Mrs. Stevens claimed to have never heard from her son?"

"Not even a postcard," Lisbon replied, "and Mrs. Stevens certainly isn't receiving any of her son's money. She's still working as a cleaning woman and she's not exactly driving around in a Porsche. If Stevens had been giving her money, the mother must be burning it all up in order to warm herself."

Lisbon's email 'dinged' telling her she had an incoming. She took a quick glanced and her mouth curved attractively into a smile.

"Some good news I hope?" Jane asked her.

She looked over at him, "No, sorry...it had nothing to do with the case. It's an email from Rigsby. And by the way, you really need to get your own e-mail account."

Jane furrowed his brow.

Curious, he leaned over so he could see the email. Reading the subject heading also made him smile. It read:

**Your invited to a BBQ this Sunday**(Cho said it's okay to drag Jane along, if you want)

Below the e-vite was information regarding where it was being held, with a cartoon depiction of a hot dog, cob of corn and Popsicle ice stick pictured at the bottom.

"Codes seems to be running rampant everywhere," Jane noted, "looks like Rigsby is leaving us a grammar code of sort," he pointed, referring to how Rigsby had typed 'Your invited' instead of 'You're invited'.

"Oh, Jane, don't be so hard on him. He could have just come over to tell us about the BBQ, but instead he sends an email invitation," Lisbon tried to defend Rigsby, "I think it's sweet that he wanted to make it formal- like. And look, he even enclosed an RSVP along with his phone number."

"It _was_quite proper of him, wasn't it?" Jane commented, "and outside of the cartoony-like food drawings, this appears to be the world's most official BBQ invitation," Jane noted.

"Well, I, for one, am very appreciative that he took the time to invite us this way."

"Us?" Jane had a glint in his eye, "does that mean _we're_ going?"

There was a flush of heat that went through her chest. There also seemed to be a faint stirring of pleasure in her at the suggestion that they attend together. She really needed to switch back to coffee.

"We're getting sidetracked so I'll send Rigsby a response later," she decided quickly, "right now we should definitely concentrate more on the case."

She then reached her hand out with the intention of closing the e-vite, when suddenly without warning, Jane grabbed her wrist. A shot of warmth immediately ran up her arm as her heartbeat heightened.

"Jane, I-"

"Don't close that e-mail," he quietly insisted., ignoring his own heart slamming against his ribs upon his contact with her.

"What? Why not?"

Jane appeared strangely focused on the phone number Rigsby had given in his invitation. The numbers seemed to be tumbling around in his head.

"Jane?" Lisbon tried again to catch his attention, "You've figured out something about the code, haven't you?"

"It's just...wait..." Jane seemed in a trance, unable to form a coherent sentence as he continued staring at Rigsby phone number.

Then he scribbled down Rigsby's number on a piece of paper.

"Lisbon," he seemed on the verge of a epiphany, "could I see that first screen you originally had up...the one with the coded message?" he asked, staring into the screen.

"Uh, sure." Looking puzzled, she pushed a button:

_**Shrapnel Vest Too**_

_**Scam Lost Inn**_

_**see Tom Lang**_

Jane stared for a time at the coded lines, concentrating heavily on the '_see Tom Lang_' line, then back at the paper with Rigby's number. Suddenly a breathtaking thrill of revelation crossed his mind. It happened to him every now and then when some blurred thoughts came together and unexpectedly sharpened into a clear, logical truth.

His whole expression seemed to lighten up knowingly, as if to say,_Of course_, _it was so obvious.._._it was in front of me the entire time._

"I know something about one of the kidnappers," he fervently announced, his eyes dancing as he glanced over at Lisbon.

_"Really?"_ she sounded excited, "which one?"

"Ralph Stevens."

Lisbon skeptically looked back at the screen. She got nothing.

"What do you know about him?"

Jane calmly declared, "Thanks to Rigsby phone number, I think I know Ralph Stevens' location."

_Meanwhile from where he discreetly sat listening, Wylon Merton leaned forward, his mouth practically drooling at what he heard._

_He had been right about being patient._

_ Lisbon and Jane had come through for him._

_They were brilliant enough to decipher a part of the code and discovered the location of Stevens._

_**...And, Merton sneered, they were about to unwittingly divulge that information to him.**_

_._

_._

_._

_(A/N: Don't worry, you'll know the secret to the location of the kidnapper in the next chapter!)_:D

_Please review_


	13. Chapter 13

Decoding it

Chapter 13

Lisbon could not believe it.

She always was confident in herself. She was an intelligent, highly trained agent. She knew everything that Jane knew about the case, yet her mind drew a blank at:

_**Shrapnel Vest too**_

_**Scam Lost Inn**_

_**see Tom Lang**_

But Jane had just informed her that from this coded message and Rigsby phone number, he had figure out the location of Ralph Stevens, one of the kidnappers. How is that possible?

"So where is he?" she wanted to know.

"Don't you want to know how I came to decipher the code?" Jane asked her.

Lisbon's expression didn't change, as she placed her hands on her waist "So where is he?" she purposely repeated.

Jane grinned.

"All in due time, Lisbon," he said, "the first thing we have to do in breaking the code is figure who is involved. Therefore, the code should have a kidnapper's name in it. And I evidently had it right when I originally looked at the code the first time. The name _Ralph Stevens_ was in an anagram, after all."

"Really?" Lisbon mentally counted that the name Ralph Stevens had 12 letters, yet when she looked at each line of the coded message, none of the lines contained that number of letters.

"His name doesn't fit any of the lines," Lisbon determined.

"Look again at the first line," he indicated:

_**Shrapnel Vest too**_

"Okay..." Lisbon said, "but that still doesn't magically turn into Ralph Stevens."

"The letter 'v' is a rarely used letter in words, in comparison to letters such as 't' or 'n' or 's'," Jane explained, "and the only kidnapper with a "v" in the name is _Ralph Stevens_. So I thought, that's what it must be. Of course, the number of letters didn't fit, but what if you removed the 'too' part? Maybe Bellini added that to throw a person off. So when I took that word out of the coded equation, sure enough, _Shrapnel Vest_ is an anagram for _Ralph Stevens_!"

"You're right!" Lisbon announced as realization sunk in, "Of course! That's brilliant!" she looked at him with new admiration," So we have a name...what about his location_?"_

"I figured it out when I saw Rigsby phone number," Jane said, referring to the scribbled paper, "His phone number, like everyone else's, has ten numbers. And then when I looked at the coded message again, something clicked. I realized that the code also pointed to a phone number."

Lisbon turned her head at the screen again and appeared confused, "but there are no numbers listed on the code here."

"Yes there is, you just have to be able to count," Jane stated casually, "notice that his phone number has ten numbers, spaced in groupings of three, three and four numbers."

"I see that, ..." Lisbon began, as she stared back at the computer screen and her eyes widened.

"Wait...I think I see it...the letters _See Tom Lang_ are ALSO placed in groups of three, three and four letters!"

"Now, you're getting it, Lisbon," Jane looked pleased, "so all we need to do is match up the letter with the numbers on the keypad."

Excitedly she looked at her phone and matched the letters in the phrase _See Tom Lang _with the numbers they represented on the keypad.

733-866-5264

Could it have _really_ been that simple?

Lisbon and Jane stared in wonderment to the numbers she had written down. The discovery was exciting. Lisbon immediately got on the computer and typed something in, but when she received the results, her face fell.

"Noooo," she moaned.

"What is it?"

"It's all wrong! It doesn't fit!" Lisbon announced.

Jane looked stunned, which was rare for him, "What do you mean?"

"The area code here makes it NOT a valid phone number!" she said, disappointment heard in her tone.

Jane had been so sure.

"Did you double check it?"

"Of course I did!" Lisbon sighed, "It _appears_ to be a legit number, but according to my records here, the first three numbers, 733, are a spoofed area code. Meaning it doesn't exist."

"It HAS to be the phone number," Jane sounded incredulous, "It just HAS to be! I feel it in every fiber in my bones."

Lisbon sat back, defeated, "Well, it's not."

"Try it again."

"I did and it's not," Lisbon hated the setback. Then another idea entered her mind and she sat up, "..._but_..." she thought out loud, "that doesn't make the ENTIRE phone number invalid, does it?"

She began typing again:

_**Shrapnel vest= Ralph Stevens**_

_**Scam Lost Inn= ?**_

_**See Tom Lang=**_(area code place holder: 733)_**-866-5264**_

"So, what do you think?" she questioned.

He had lean in further and suddenly instead of concentrating on what was on the screen, he became aware of their closeness. A feeling he hadn't felt in a long time permeated throughout it body. He knew what it was. Yearning.

"Jane?" he heard Lisbon call his name.

"I, er, think we need an area code if we want an exact location," he forced himself to concentrated and pointed to the second line, "and I have a feeling the answer will be found in that line, _Scam Lost Inn._"

"It _does_ sound like a location," Lisbon reasoned, "You think it's also in anagram form?"

Jane had recovered, "All I know is that Marco Bellini is smarter than I originally gave him credit for," he then added, "And once we know the location, we can change the area code of the phone number,. Then we will have the correct phone number, AND the exact location. Of course, the problem is, we have NO idea where the location could be."

"Oh, I think I can narrow down a bit..." Lisbon stated.

"You can?" Jane asked, looking impressed.

She nodded.

"Wherever he is, it's somewhere very cold,"she announced with certainty.

"How do you know that?"

"From the notes I had typed up from the files Havington gave us," Lisbon reminded him, "it stated that Ralph Stevens loved skiing. I think somewhere in my notes it also stated that he was a part time ski instructor. So they would have to place his residence near snow."

Jane saw a glimmer of hope.

"You're right, although there are probably thousands of places to ski, so it'll still be impossible for us to pinpoint a precise location. Had Stevens' file ever mention his favorite place to ski?" he asked.

"No, but let me call Van Pelt. She had previously spoken with the mother."

It took less than fifteen minutes for Lisbon to get her answer and the call to be completed.

Lisbon hung up the phone, "According to Grace, Mrs. Stevens claimed her son enjoyed skiing in the states of Massachusetts and Connecticut."

They both stared at the second line of the coded words, trying to rearrange letters to fit the two states.

"No," Lisbon again sounded discouraged, "both those names are too long to fit in that second line."

"And it would be too long to put in an anagram, anyway," Jane reasoned. Then he thought of something else, "what if Marco Bellini decided to _abbreviate_ the state name in the coded message? What do you think? Let's try MA and CT."

Lisbon's eyes sparkled, "Great idea!" she said, as she quickly scanned the line and began typing.

"Wait!" Jane had an even better idea, "The coded line _Scam Lost Inn_ has two S's. Maybe Bellini wasn't familiar with state names. Being a foreigner, he may not have known that the postal office abbreviates the states officially by two letters. He needed to remember Massachusetts, versus other states such as Maine. Therefore, try M-A-S-S."

"I'll give it a try," she said, typing MASS below the coded line.

"So what letters do we have left?" Jane asked.

Lisbon responded with, "if we take out M-A-S-S from _Scam Lost Inn_, we have the letters C, L, O, T, I, N, N left over."

"Well, it's definitely not a city named _Clotinn,"_ Jane pointed out.

Both of them were unscrambling the letters like crazy. in their minds.

Lisbon was the first to figure it out, "I've got it, Jane," she said at last, "when I was 12, my aunt had treated my brothers and I to a skiing trip, to help forget about my mother's death. "

Jane's eyes saddened, "I'm sorry to hear that. About your mother's death."

'Thank you, but no, that's not the point," Lisbon spoke quickly, "we had ended up going skiing in this quaint town called...get this... _Clinton,_ Massachusetts!"

"Clinton, Massachusetts?" Jane tried to appear calm, but his eyes danced, "I think that name will fit our little code!"

Lisbon burst forth a happy smile as she looked up the area code in for Clinton, MA.

So now they had:

_**Shrapnel Vest too**_= Ralph Stevens

_**Scam Lost Inn**_=Clinton, Massachusetts

_**see Tom Lang**_=978-866-5264

"I don't believe it!" Lisbon exclaimed as she stood up with a satisfied look, "Jane, we did it, we did it!"

He was also standing and they exchanged pleased looks.

"Lisbon, you were BRILLIANT!" enthused Jane.

Lisbon was ecstatic, as if she had solved the mystery of life. It was hard for Jane to also keep within his usual cool demeanor. Without even realizing what they were doing, they euphorically reached out and gave each other a hug in unified celebration. But it was anything but casual. The contact caused a pleasurable stirrings of sensations from each other.

Jane felt his insides tighten into knots. It seemed that lately, every time he was in the same room with Lisbon, he could not think straight. But the timing was so wrong. His purpose for being at CBI was to seek revenge for his wife and daughter.

When they separated, Lisbon knew the embrace had affected her as well. But she forced down any personal thoughts about him from her mind. She was already dating her career. She had worked hard to become the first senior special agent at the CBI. Even if she were interested in a relationship, the smug Patrick Jane was all wrong for her. Totally.

"So, what do we do now?" Jane asked.

"About?" Lisbon looked alarmed.

"About Ralph Stevens, now that we know of his location."

_Oh, of course,_ Lisbon thought, as a blush stained her cheeks.

"Don't worry, Jane," she assured him, " I'm due to some vacation-time since I haven't taken time off from work for two years. I'll fly over there and make sure he will be kept out of harm's way."

Jane took a deep breath.

"I could go with you," he volunteered quickly.

Lisbon's initial reaction was to shout out a resounding 'yes' but instead she was able to calm her pounding heart, "I suppose you could tag along," she stated, trying to appear nonchalant, though her insides were quivering.

Jane peered at her strangely, "Before I go, I should let you in on a little secret about me and flying."

_Oh here we go_, Lisbon thought, wondering if he was going to show how knowledgeable he was regarding flying.

"Don't tell me you know how to fly a plane, too!" Lisbon guessed.

He smiled.

"Not even close," he told her, "I'm actually a white knuckle flyer. I figure that if God had _really_ intended people to fly, he would have made it easier to get through the airport."

Lisbon laughed.

It felt good to loosen up after such an intense morning.

"It'll take time for the paperwork to get approved for the trip, so the earliest we'll be able to leave is sometime late afternoon at the best, " she suggested, " and pack light...it'll probably be a good 7 hour flight."

"This is all I need," he said, holding out his arms to indicate himself, "Me...and, of course, my toothbrush."

Though he tried not to show it, he was excited about their new adventure.

.

_Merton put down the listening device, a smirk plastered on his face._

_He was not interested in their little 'getting to know each other' banter. He never got the whole attraction thing. He had a job to do and the faster he completed it, the faster he got paid. And thanks to Lisbon and Jane and a reverse directory, Merton now knew the location of Ralph Stevens._

_Ralph Stevens didn't know it, but he is spending his last few hours on earth._

_Wylon Merton called the airlines and booked the first flight out to Clinton, Massachusetts, ahead of Lisbon and Jane._

_._

_._

_Please review_


	14. Chapter 14

Sharing

Chapter 14

By the time Lisbon and Jane had arrived in Clinton, Massachusetts, it was well past midnight. They just hoped their motel accommodations were decent. This seemed especially true since Jane began rambling about how the word 'motel' comes from the blended words of 'motor' and 'hotel' and is meant to describe an establishment that provides only _some_ of the services associated with a hotel.

In other words, at best, it was the very basic of comforts; at worst it was the excuse to allow it to remain rundown. Creepy looking, even.

So Lisbon instantly thought Bates Motel.

Instead, The Clinton City Inn was anything but.

Tucked in a beautiful countryside, surrounded by lakes and ponds, it offered a warm welcome to its guest. Featuring a lush garden courtyard with a heated pool, the interior was a modern take in comfort with its plush sofas and light wood furnishings. However because of all its wonderful amenities, that was the exact reason why it had been completely booked when Lisbon and Jane had attempted to check in.

So the only way they could stay there was if they could share a room.

The hour was too late to search for another place. And right now anything sounded good when all they wanted to do was sleep.

Besides, it was only for one night.

.

Entering their room, Lisbon and Jane felt exhausted from the seven hour flight. Even so, they needed to get up early the next morning to warn Ralph Stevens of the danger he could be in.

Knowing they would not get much sleep, Lisbon purposely turned off her cellphone before tossing it into her suitcase. She then looked around the room.

"I thought they said there was going to be _two_ beds," Lisbon said, as she scanned the room and noted the one solitude bed, and a small one at that.

Jane threw his dufflebag down on the dresser.

"The desk clerk didn't say double beds as in _two_," he explained, "he said _'a'_double bed. _And_ he also forgot to mention that it would be size of a matchbox."

Lisbon had put her suitcase on the rack as Jane went into the bathroom. When he came out, Lisbon was feeling the mattress by pressing it down. It felt hard.

"I don't think I'm going to get a very good night sleep on this mattress."

"You can always sleep in the bathtub," Jane suggested.

"Ha ha," Lisbon responded, "I was going to suggest that for _you_."

They were trying to act as natural as they could, but each one was thinking that it would be strange they would be sharing a bed. Jane removed his jacket, untucked his shirt, kicked off his shoes, and plopped himself on the bed. It was obvious he was ready to sleep.

"Be sure to turn off the lights. Good night, Lisbon."

Lisbon folded her arms, "That's it?"

Jane yawned, "What did you expect? A drum-roll?"

"I should tell you that **_I_ **always sleep on the right side of the bed," she informed him, noting how he was on the right side of the bed.

"Really, Lisbon, you've got to stop sweating the small stuff, " he mumbled, shutting his eyes, "I'm thinking the only reason why you're so insistent about which side is that even in sleeping, you need to be _right._"

She rolled her eyes. _Sooo_ infuriating!

"You just better not snore, because I swear, Jane, if you do, I will _slug_ you, no matter _what_ time it is," she warned him.

"I NEVER snore," he claimed, "although you _may_ hear some content purring coming from me."

"Hmph!" she grunted, getting her makeup bag, "I'm going to go take a shower now and when I return, I'll expect you to be asleep! "

"Yeah, yeah, just go, so I can get my beauty sleep," he grumbled, tiredly, trying to find a comfortable spot as she left.

.

When Lisbon returned from the bathroom, Jane was already asleep. She didn't want to admitted to herself, but she actually was disappointed. Tilting her head, she watched him for a few seconds, liking how peaceful and quiet he appeared. Entirely different from the smug, brilliant consultant she knew in the daytime.

She reached over to turn off the lights. The room was bathed in darkness as she tried to find her way to the bed. Now all she saw was a form, but her heart was beating rapidly at the knowledge that it was Jane.

She crept into the bed, first pulling the covers out as noiselessly as she could. Luckily Jane was sleeping on top of the covers. She laid down and made it a point to lay on her side, facing Jane, taking in the long, streamlined length of him.

In one fluid movement she could be touching him, she thought mischievously.

It was all too tempting.

Feeling mischievous, Lisbon discreetly reached out and lightly touched his chest, as if a spider was scurrying across it. He didn't move.

Must be a sound sleeper.

Then...

"You just HAD to touch me, didn't you?" he murmured in the darkness.

Lisbon's mouth feel opened and color rose to her cheeks, so she turned away and faced the wall.

Of course, that didn't stop Jane, "Come on, Lisbon, admit it. _I'm irresistible_."

_Oooooh!_ If only she could relive the last 30 seconds! All Lisbon wanted to do was wipe the smirk she knew he probably had plastered on his face right now.

"You know what, Jane?" her tone polite as she still faced away from him.

"What's that?" she heard him respond.

"I should warn you, I _never _sleep with panties on," she nonchalantly announced.

There was a sharp intake of breath coming from Jane's side, causing Lisbon's mouth to form into a curved smile.

Satisfied, she snuggled in her blankets and fell asleep quickly,while Jane stared wide-eyed into the darkness.

.

It was now six hours later. The morning light had begun to filter through the motel curtains.

Jane was half-awake. Although his eyes were still closed, he was aware he was not alone. A slow smile formed on his lips at the realization.

_Lisbon._

Somewhere during the sleep cycle she had cuddled up against him and now it caused every nerve in his body to screech in protest. Opening his weary, heavy eyes, he stared at the slender form cuddled so trustingly against him.

He couldn't push her away, yet he couldn't pull her closer. So he stayed like this, suffering and waiting.

Every time Lisbon moved, every shift of her head on the pillow and every sigh that escaped her lips had titillated him. This was a woman who berated and questioned his every move during the waking hours. Yet, in the early hours of the sleepy morning he was only aware of her petite body. The smell of her warm, soap-scrubbed body made his blood race until he felt light headed. He couldn't help it as he reached up to touch a silky lock of her hair.

For a quick second, he wanted to pull his hand away from her hair, for his mind conjured up a flash image of Angela. But surprisingly, he felt no guilt. He wasn't cheating on Angela; she was physically gone from this world ...forever. But Teresa Lisbon was here with him now. A beautiful, intelligent yet vulnerable woman any man would be very lucky to share his life with.

As if his internal thoughts had somehow been communicated to her, she sighed in her sleep and rolled away from him. She then turned around so that she was now facing him. Then she slowly opened her eyes and found his eyes locked tenderly in hers.

"Good morning," Jane spoke out first, although his voice was barely above a whisper.

Lisbon wanted to keep up the charade of being annoyed at having to share a bed with him, but it was useless.

"Heyyy," she responded encouragingly.

And then as if he didn't have any impulse control, Jane felt a deep need to touch her again. He couldn't stop himself any more than he could stop from breathing or keep his heart from beating. He exhaled deeply and then settled his hand lightly on the deep indentation of her waist.

At first her body stiffened. Then to her surprise and his, she seemed to gradually accept his touch. There was a barely detectable motion beneath her stillness; a slight quivering that welcomed his touch. He felt a tremor chase down his own body at the thought that she wasn't trying to wriggle away from him.

Encouraged, he then slid his hand along her ribcage, watching to see her reaction. The heat of his palm seemed to permeate through the t-shirt she was wearing. Surprisingly she still hadn't slapped his hand away. That meant something, although he couldn't figure out if she were holding back due to shock, willingness or just plain curiosity. As his hand continued to linger and then move up and down her side, he felt her entire body quiver.

Then her weight shifted and he waited for her to belt him in the mouth.

Instead she moved closer to him. Breathing jerkily, she brought her hand up to touch his cheek as she tried to calm the nervous flurry inside. She tenderly watched his face, transfixed by the sweet, flowering sensation that rapidly spread throughout her body.

He now gingerly placed his arm around her waist again and with an insistent force, began pulling her towards him. When she felt his chest, she let out a small gasp, surprised at the hardness of it.

"You must be secretly working out," she teased.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," he invitingly told her, "...you know those times you saw me hovering near the side of the couch at the CBI office? I wasn't actually hovering...I was actually using the couch like weights, lifting one side, up and down. 30 times on one arm, and then 30 times on the other arm. Everyday, and even daily."

She laughed and it seemed to chase away the nerves.

Next she gave him a beguiling smile, "I'm wide awake now."

"Me, too," he agreed, "and although this is nice, it's awkward, too, _but, perhaps..._ we can just chalk it up to unusual circumstances beyond our control."

She wasn't used to this sincere, approachable Jane.

"It's more nice than awkward," she said, her voice shaking a bit.

"I agree," his voice sounded velvety, "al_though_..."

His words lingered mid-sentence while at the same time, she felt his arm at her waist tightened a bit.

She swallowed hard, "Although, _what?_"

He would blurt it out before he lost the courage.

"...although... now that we're here, like this, so close, our bodies almost touching..."

A pause

"Yes?" she held her breath.

He wore a curious expression, both absorbed and wary.

I think I'd like to kiss you..."

Lisbon tried to appear composed, but heart was thumping in a mad rhythm.

"I would like that," she softly answered back.

She watched as Jane's gaze became alive and hot, like a blue flame had been captured in his eyes.

She felt him pulling her closer, urging her to the side of the bed. Her gaze flickered to his mouth, causing Jane's blood to surge as he held himself over her. His mouth dove down, and he caught her mouth with his, kissing her with undiluted passion. She tasted luscious and sweet. As the kiss intensified, he heard her moan as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sharing her pent up desires with his own.

He felt his hand moving up her rib cage and she encouraged him further as her body writhe in pleasure. He wanted to continue his exploration of her body while his desire burned steadily though all rational thoughts. His insides were red hot.

Red hot.

Red John.

He silently cursed himself for not being able to shut off his mind. Suddenly he halted and separated from her.

"Jane?" she blinked quickly, obviously confused.

Bewildered, she unconsciously drew up the cover closer around her. The coolness of the early morning air helped Jane's brain to function rationally again.

He had no idea a simple kiss would affect him like this.

Another reason he must stop. He must _not_ let go of his goal. Red John was his goal. Nothing else mattered until he righted the wrong.

It was all he lived for.

"Lisbon...let's...not."

She still had a look of puzzlement, yet with her softened just-kissed lips, she never appeared lovelier.

It took all of Jane's willpower not to draw her in his arms again.

It's best we never talk about this again," he told her impassively, "I hope you understand."

He had shut down and become guarded again.

Lisbon wasn't sure she really comprehended what he was trying to convey. She always knew there was more than met the eye when it came to Jane. Moments earlier, she had longed to continue their kiss, to go beyond that to see where it would take them. She wanted to be held and comforted and to comfort him as well. But looking at him now, she could see he was beyond lost. His doubts, insecurities, or whatever was troubling him, could not be solved with a night (or morning!) of passion. Whatever he had been through, it had destroyed his soul. She could see it in the emptiness of his eyes.

She slowly nodded, "Alright Jane, like you said, it was...unusual circumstances. And don't worry," she reminded him, "we'll never speak of this again."

And then she turned so that her back was to him.

He, on the other hand, retreated to the safety of the bathroom.

Closing the door quietly behind him, Jane stared at his reflection in the mirror. He could still taste her mouth on his, even if she wasn't here. He was alone now. Somehow the emptiness that surrounded him once again felt familiar and comfortable. Detachment from the world was what he was used to.

But that is not he wanted for Lisbon.

She was a woman that should _never_ feel this haunting type of loneliness and isolation. Lisbon was vibrant and giving; she deserved the love of a good man, and that man was not him. He was damaged beyond repair, and he had nothing else to give to her or anyone.

Letting out a deep breath, he decided it was time to get ready for the day.

He reached for his toothbrush.

.

.

_(I know, I know... a little AUish for season one, but I couldn't help myself after than fabulous finale! I wanted something to happen between them! Next chapter will be back to the race between Lisbon/Jane and the killer, to see who will reach Ralph Stevens first...AND there'll be a reference to Casablanca, too!)_

_Please review_


	15. Chapter 15

A Discovery

Chapter 15

_More than anything Ralph Stevens loved to ski._

_Of course, to the world, he was now known as Roland Sager._

_It was early morning and Roland stood alone on the mountain, skiing swiftly down the steep, narrow ribbon of soft snow between the trees. He was living his dream job. He had invested his share of the ransom wisely and now had more money than he knew what to do with._

_Life had turned out exactly how he had imagined. No, even better. He had a beautiful wife, great kids, a wonderful home, and he could ski to his heart's desire. Right now he was here to become one with the snow, the mountain, the earth. As he began his skiing ascent, he fell into something like a trance and his skiing became fluid and instinctive, as he felt the cold rush of the wind on his cheeks._

_Because he was floating along in his own snowy wonderland, he was totally unaware of the figure in black traversing the glade behind him, coming up fast. By the time Roland saw him, it was too late as the unknown assailant intentionally clipped Roland, breaking his rhythm and balance and causing him to hurtle out of control into a line of trees._

_Sager's body smacked against a tall tree with a sharp crack. An overwhelming feeling of pain entered his body as he looked down at his twisted legs with jagged bones sticking out of his leg. Blood was dripping from somewhere but all he remembered was he wanted the pain to stop._

_Through his fog of suffering, Roland saw a man in a ski mask approached him. With his pleading eyes, Roland begged the man to help him. His begging eyes turned to alarm when the stranger removed his ski mask and Roland noted the coldness of the man's eyes._

_"Who. Are. You?" Roland managed to ask through the pain._

_"A friend of Raymond Havington," Merton stated casually, while at the same time, bringing up one of his ski poles up above his head._

_Realization flickered across Roland's face, as his eyes became round with fear. Merton smiled with glee at Ralph Stevens's horrified understanding just before he was clubbed viciously with the ski pole, over and over again._

_It's always nice to die doing the thing you love most, Merton thought as each hit became harder and harder._

_._

_(Earlier)_

Ralph Stevens, aka Roland Sager lived on the outskirts of Clinton, in a modest, wooded home.

That morning when Lisbon and Jane had arrived at the remote house, Roland's wife, Karen, informed them that Roland had gone skiing. She knew exactly the location of his favorite spot to ski and was sure he was there. Lisbon decided that they should go with local police to the site.

Jane declined to go up with her to the mountain. His excuse was that he didn't care to deal with cold and snow, but in reality, he needed time alone.

And both of them felt relieved at that decision.

Unfortunately, they didn't know that they were already too late in regards to saving the life of Ralph Stevens, aka Roland Sager.

.

While Lisbon was busy conferring with the police, Jane had decided to trek down to this local coffeehouse/bookstore place called A_ Cupful of Words_, a recommendation from the front desk.

The coffeehouse was like sitting in someone's personal ski lodge. A roaring fire crackled on the hearth and the air smelled of coffee and freshly made muffins. Yet despite the inviting atmosphere, Jane still felt ill at ease, yet he couldn't say why. It was as if someone was invisibly watching him. He tried to ignore it by telling himself it was due to the awkwardness between him and Lisbon, but the anxiousness still prevailed.

A man, who was already seated with a newspaper, did a double take as Jane sat on the sofa next to him.

The barista had placed a mug of hot apple cider tea, a drink blended with apples, cinnamon cloves and ginger, on Jane's table. Jane already held in his hands a book he had earlier grabbed from one of the archaic, wooden bookshelves. He figured reading might help pass the time.

The stranger craned his neck to see what book Jane had just opened.

_"Casablanca..."_ he read the title, "is that book based on the movie of the same name?"

Jane did not feel like having a running dialogue with a stranger; he just wanted to left with his thoughts. But the man had asked him a question, and Jane knew Lisbon would be appalled if she found out he had been rude to one of the people in town.

"The other way around. The movie was lifted from this _book_, " Jane corrected.

He then ignored the stranger and opened the book, intent on trying to immersed himself in the story.

"So did the movie follow the book?" the man burst into Jane's reading.

Jane gave a frustrated breath.

"I don't know, " he kept his eyes on the book, "as I've only had the book in my hand for 45 seconds."

"Give it to me."

The man's tone was strange. Jane couldn't help thinking a mysterious force was guiding him as he reluctantly closed the book and relinquished to the man. Jane's body was telling him to get up and leave, but his eyes were drawn to watching the man skimming the book quickly until he reached the last three pages of the book.

"The ending is quite different from the movie," the man decided, sounding very normal again, "to which I'm relieved. I believe the movie had over-romanticize that last scene at the airport, turning it into sentimental female dribble!"

"Nothing wrong with witnessing affairs of the heart on a fog-filled misty tarmac," Jane sounded weirdly defensive.

The man gave Jane a questioning look, "It's an airport. Where planes land and take off. Nothing more to it."

Jane shrugged, "depending on the situation, airports could be considered _quite_ romantic. Right up there with candlelit dinners or strolls along the beach."

"Humph!" the stranger grunted, unconvinced, "In real life, people at airports are more interested in catching their flights, not divulging their feelings!" Irritated, he slammed the book shut and handed it back to Jane, "Besides, if I remembered the movie correctly, Bogart didn't even get the woman at the end."

Jane took back the book. He was feeling stronger as he watched the man intently.

"It's called romantic self-sacrifice while maintaining one's dignity," Jane told him, "I admired Bogart's character for letting her go. From his actions at the airport, it helped to reaffirm his love for her."

The man looked unconvinced.

"If you ask me," he said, "the movie was more like a collection of button-pushing emotional clichés. I like things short and simple."

"But life isn't, " Jane pointed out.

It wasn't their differing viewpoints that bothered Jane so much. There was just something he didn't like about the stranger, so instead, he focused on drinking his tea as he stared into the fire.

The man must have finally taken the hint that his company was no longer welcomed, for he now stood.

"It's not a day for reading anyway," he declared, as he folded up his newspaper "in fact, I'd say it's not really a good day, period."

"You could be right about that," Jane said, wondering why he still felt so much on edge.

Maybe it was best he should leave, too. Placing the book back on the shelf, he also left, hoping a brisk walk in the cool air might do him some good.

.

_Little did Jane know that the man he had been conversing with was hired killer Wylon Merton._

_Merton had not expected to run into Jane at the coffee house, much less talk with him, but he didn't regret his decision. All this time he had been observing the investigation from a distance, so it was nice to be actually interacting with one of the principles. _

_Funny, he expected Jane to be...more engaging, more charismatic. Instead, if anything, Jane was a loner; it was laughable that Merton had thought Jane would be his equal._

_Merton was now back in his motel room, setting up his surveillance equipment. He had to give Lisbon and Jane credit for figuring out the puzzle on the bookmark. Merton was certain he would have never been able to decipher it on his own._

_Now all he had to do was wait for Lisbon and Jane to work on locating the other two kidnappers._

_Then Merton would complete HIS job._

.

Meanwhile, up on the slopes, Lisbon was standing with a few local law enforcement officers, sipping coffee out of insulated mugs while wearing warm parkas with the search and rescue team. Several snowmobiles were parked haphazardly along the tree line. The snow had been well trampled. Whatever signs the killer might have left were gone now.

The only thing they could do now was wait for the forensic team to arrive.

Sheriff Bob Bailey watched the tiny female CBI agent named Teresa Lisbon staring grimly at the victim Roland Sager. She looked crestfallen, as if the murder was her fault. He went over to her.

"What do you plan to do now, Agent Lisbon?"

"Wait for the local coroner's report," she gravely answered. When she looked up, her eyes were red, but determined, "and then we'll see what story Roland Sager's body has to tell."

.

When Lisbon later met up with Jane and told him the bad news, their awkward situation was instantly put aside for the sake of the investigation.. It was now time to put on their game face. They were standing in the hallway outside the Clinton County coroner's office and Lisbon was lamenting the fact that they had missed saving Sager by mere hours. Not that it was REALLY their fault, but still...

The coroner came out of the autopsy room, his surgical scrubs all blood-stained.

"According to the files you've presented me, Roland Sager is definitely Ralph Stevens," the coroner verified, "and you were correct...Mr. Sager has had extensive plastic surgery done, his face totally reshaped, hair plugs inserted, and his teeth capped. Sager and Stevens are one of the same."

"I'm just sorry we weren't here soon enough to save Ralph Stevens," Lisbon said, looking none too happy.

"You mean Roland Sager," Jane reminded her.

"Does it even matter now?" Lisbon felt defeated.

"I think to his family it would," the coroner responded on Jane's behalf, "And I suppose we should give the bad news to them now that his identity has been established. When the sheriff comes, I'll inform him of the results, then he can-"

"No, no, we'll do it," Lisbon volunteered, "I would like to meet and speak with Mrs. Sager, anyway."

The coroner shrugged, "Suit yourself. It won't be a pleasant experience."

"I don't expect it to be," Lisbon said with a sad sigh.

As they walked down the corridor to leave, Lisbon had turned to Jane, "Maybe we can get some insight into Roland Sager's former life from his wife. Maybe she might even know about the ransom money."

Jane nodded, "I'm ready."

.

Karen Sager had sent her twin four-year-olds to a neighbor's house. As far as moving the investigation forward, she was of no help. Lisbon, Jane and Karen were sitting in the living room when Lisbon delivered the bad news.

Karen looked in shock, her eyes staring past Lisbon into the distance. Then she began crying. Jane was kind enough to hand her the tissue box.

"Why would anyone murder my Roland?" she wanted to know, in between sobs.

"Actually, Mrs. Sager, your husband wasn't the man you thought he was," Lisbon tried to be gentle, "we have reason to believe he was involved with the Claire Havington's kidnapping and murder case from five years ago."

Karen had been wiping her eyes when she looked up directly at Lisbon, "What? I don't understand...A kidnapping? Murder?...What are you saying?"

Lisbon explained that her husband wasn't who he claimed to be. He had a past and wanted to erase it, so Roland had extensive plastic surgery done.

"So he's had plastic surgery done," she said, sounding defensive, "_that's _your reason to believe he was involved in some kind of kidnapping and murder?"

"It all fits together," Jane spoke out at last, "Otherwise, why else would your husband have all that plastic surgery done?"

"For your information, I knew of his surgery and the reason why!" she exclaimed, her eyes now flashed with indignation, "You see, he had been in a terrible car accident. He almost died. His face was really messed up."

"There is no record of an accident," Lisbon told her, "did he ever show you an article about the accident? Or any other evidence?"

Karen looked upset.

"My husband is dead; _DEAD_," she reminded them, "do you think I _really_ care about whether or not he lied about a _car accident_? This is just so ridiculous! Why aren't the two of you out there looking for his killer instead?"

"We are doing that, Mrs. Sager," Lisbon said, "but we also want to know WHY he was killed. That's why I'm informing you that we have reason to believe that he has been living a lie with you."

"_No_." Karen stated with certainty, "That other awful _perso_n you spoke of, the one who kidnapped and killed that innocent girl..._that_ person was definitely NOT my husband!"

"Alright, we'll leave it at that," Lisbon said diplomatically, "Just one more thing. Mrs. Sager; do the names Cathy Lowell or Maggie Linn mean anything to you?"

She shook her head.

Jane piped in, "What about Marco Bellini? Have you ever heard of that name?"

"No..._NO_..." Karen now stood up, "I've never heard of this Marco Whomever or those two other people, and I don't care to, either!" Her tone was forceful, her eyes blazing as she continued, "Just let me grieve in peace! "

Lisbon tried to not upset her further, "I'm so sorry we had to ask you those questions but-"

"Don't you get what I'm saying?" Karen's eyes began to fill with tears, "I will remember my husband as he is..._was_...so, I need for you two to leave NOW!"

Lisbon and Jane felt terrible for Karen Sager and her family. What a shock morning it had been for her. The joy they felt at breaking the code and finding Ralph Stevens was gone. Not now. Not this way.

There was nothing Lisbon and Jane could do but give their condolences and leave.

.

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_(A/N: There was never a book called "Casablanca". The classic movie was originally adapted from a play.)_

_Please review_


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